


Dangerous Animals

by WrecklessSerenade



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugs, Mentions of Cancer, Promiscuity, Recreational Drug Use, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:52:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 78,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrecklessSerenade/pseuds/WrecklessSerenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tragic love story that revolves around the life of Harry Styles, a young drug dealer who moves to London and falls for a mysterious girl with a wild side that mirrored his own. <br/>Until he meets Louis, in the most unconventional of ways and the two fall into a manic love that borders unhealthy. <br/>But Harry has a lot boiling beneath the surface. How close can Louis stay before he starts to get burned?</p><p>*I literally don't know my original summary kinda didn't apply anymore since I changed the direction of the plot but I'm pretty sure this one just sucks. Sorry*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Liam, would you stop fucking calling me that." She rolled her eyes and looked around the room again. She hated being called Elizabeth, it was such a pretentious name. She checked her phone for fifth time and sighed impatiently to see she that she still hadn't gotten a reply. She wondered how bloody long it could take and how unreliable the wankers in this town were, and how much longer she would be able to handle this night out with her brother which was, yet again, sufficiently awkward. She was about to put her phone back in her pocket when it vibrated in her hand. She pulled it up to her face eagerly. "About fucking time you useless prick," she huffed under her breath.  
"What was that sis?' Liam asked.  
She rolled her eyes thinking of fucking course he heard her. "Be right back I've got to piss," she told him before scanning the room and following the directions she had read which instructed her to make her way over to the lanky figure in the back corner of the club in the Rolling Stones tee.  
She stopped in font of him and cleared her throat causing him to look up.  
"Heard you're the man to find tonight," she said flatly. This was taking too long.  
"Might be."  
The raspiness of his voice dared her to stare directly into his eyes a bit longer. Her mind made a mental note of the perfect shade of green they were, and how she was able to notice even in the darkness of the nightclub. But that wasn't important, she reminded herself, she was here for a reason and growing rather impatient of waiting anymore.  
He spoke again, stopping her thoughts. "What you need sweetheart?"  
Sweetheart? If any of her dealers called her sweetheart she'd be blatantly uncomfortable fearing what they'd want or expect or even think about. But something about this boys' eyes made her feel she didn't have to be afraid, however dazed and dilated they were.  
"Well what have you got," she responded with a hint of playfulness in her voice which perfectly matched her signature mischievous smirk.  
He started naming through the usual finds for clubs like this: E, MDMA, coke...  
She wasn't in the mood to do something like that, not with Liam here. "Have you got any pills?"  
The boy used his large hand to move a piece of his dark curly hair out of his face before opening his mouth with what she assumed would be a question.  
"Any kind," she beat him to it, smirk etched in her face again. He chuckled slightly and reached into his pocket. She caught herself wondering how such a large hand could fit into the pocket of such tight jeans. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Liam wasn't looking this way, or had spotted her, though she was fairly certain he would have already been at her side with questions if he had. It's not that he was that bad he was just so damned uptight all the time. The curly haired boy put his fist out and she responded with her own hand under his to take the pills. She looked at them briefly. "Nothing I've had before surprisingly. Better be good or I'll have Niall's balls, you can tell him that too," she said handing him her money and turning away towards the bar. She got another vodka and put the two pills in her mouth, swallowing easily.  
"Alright Elizabeth?" Liam asked as she returned.  
"Dammit Liam can't you just call me Effy like everyone else?" She sighed taking a sip of her drink.  
He really wasn't trying to piss her off. Liam was just trying to be cool, which he so wasn't. He still couldn't get used to the fact that his baby sister was now old enough to go to the same clubs as him. In fact, that's why he had made the plans, yet again, insisting they could have some sibling bonding or something of the sort. Effy didn't understand why. Liam never even got drunk, he just had one or two drinks all the time and made it his business to watch out for everyone else. She sometimes wondered why he even wanted to go to clubs at all.  
They were so different in almost every way. Liam was sensible, mature and responsible and always had been, even as a child. He had just finished his second year of uni for business management, and was enjoying it way too much. The actual learning part of it. Liam didn't go to uni to go to a bunch of parties and hook up with random girls or do any of that. The university experience for him was entirely about what he learned in the classroom and waiting eagerly to graduate and get a real job somewhere. He was a proper nerd, he liked to read and watch corny movies and even still fancied a good Disney movie, though he'd deny it if Effy brought it up. The thing about Liam is that he is so damned innocent. He's never been wasted, he looks hopelessly hurt if you act like he's done something wrong and is always, always smiling and being just happy. There really wasn't many people that didn't like him, even if they thought he was nerdy, he just wasn't the guy you'd say was a loser. He'd really talk to anyone, about anything, a real people person. He just liked to genuinely please everyone and Effy could vomit at the thought.  
Effy had finally graduated college and had no intention of ever going back to school. She had a part time job at a coffee shop which she planned on quitting soon. She would just get a job and save up enough money to move to London and get a job for the city. She didn't care what she did, anything was fine. She was always independent, even as a child. When she first learned how to ride a bike - on her own - she went to ride it around the block and ended up falling off and fracturing her ankle. She calmly got up and walked her bike all the way back home, limping to avoid putting pressure on her ankle and arrived at her house without so much as a frown on her face. Of course Liam had a proper fit and almost fainted at the sight of her bruised ankle and had their mother in an absolute panic on the phone. She came in the door twenty minutes later expecting to find the both of her children in hysterics, but Effy was there trying to calm the two of them down. She was in pain, but never even cried. That's just how she always was.  
She felt the pills starting to take effect and her mind eased. She finished her drink slowly, not wanting to become completely fucked too fast. She didn't want Liam to see her that way, even if he would just assume she was drunk. Effy was a pro at keeping her composure when she had to. Sure, when she was with her friends and they were all fucked she wouldn't try to act sober, but she never saw the sense in letting your guard totally down, and letting others see all your cards, even if they just told the truth about how shitfaced you were.  
She had been proper gone around Liam and their mother before, but they never caught on. In fact, Effy had probably ingested more drugs in past few years than she had food. But she wasn't a junkie or anything of that sort. She was responsible, you could say,in a way. She could take shitloads of drugs and stay fucked for an entire weekend without break and then go weeks without even taking a sip of alcohol. She didn't depend on drugs or alcohol, she just liked it better that way. She didn't quite recall why she had ever started in the first place. It started with just smoking spliff with her friends at lunch to get through the rest of the day at college, and then that turned into every morning before it and again during lunch. Then that turned into after college as well and it just progressed that way. But she got tired of weed quickly, it just wasn't her favorite thing. She would do it occasionally if her friends were only doing that, but if there was other options, she opted to lean that way. Effy wasn't a big fan of MDMA either. If it was there, and she was at a club with just her mates and not her brother she would but she mostly just preferred the dazy lull of pills. She particularly enjoyed Vicodin and the occasional OxyContin. But really, anything she could get a nice buzz out of was fine. She never tried really hard shit, but she wasn't the kind of girl to turn anything down.  
Effy wasn't sure what she taken, but she liked it. She felt nicely relaxed and found it paired quite good with the few drinks she had. The worst is taking something and finding out after you've had a few drinks that they don't mix well and spending the night in the toilet until it's out of your system.  
"I think we should get going," Liam spoke, breaking Effy out of her thoughts.  
She checked the time. It was 12:45. Of course good old sensible Liam wanted to leave the club when most people were just arriving. She had counted on this happening though and already had a backup.  
"Yea, Niall wants to get a bite, mind dropping me off?"  
She already knew the answer. The one good thing about being Liam's little sister is that, if she needed him, he would be there in a second, and he'd never be too fucked or too busy. Even if he was busy, he'd be there. She did love him, she just couldn't stand to be around him constantly sometimes was all. Effy never took advantage of him either tho. He would always be there if she needed him, but that doesn't mean she would always ask. This was just a ride when he'd already be driving her anyway.  
"Yea sure, come on then."  
They drove through the city streets which seemed oddly quiet to Effy as she gazed out the window, in a complete daze now. Whatever this was, she decided she loved it. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured a stunningly bright shade of green ones staring back at her. She smiled to herself and decided she would definitely be asking Niall about the curly haired boy. Not because she was interested, just curious. She didn't do interested. She did random hook ups with boys she'd never see again or the occasional standby bloke who was in love with her that she'd keep around but just barely in case of a need for a good shag. At the moment, that poor bloke was Zayn. He had been in love with her since he moved from Bradford four years ago. But almost everyone was in love with Effy.  
They arrived finally at the brick house that had become somewhat of a second home to her over the years in sixth form and she thanked Liam and said she'd be home soon. She opened the door and walked in, like she always did. Niall was sitting on the couch lighting a spliff.  
"Hey."  
"Hey, how was it?" He asked her as she joined him on the couch. Niall had moved here with his dad from Mullingar. His mum and brother were still there, but he was closer with his dad and came with him. This basically gave him the power to do anything he wanted all the time, seeing as his dad was the new owner and chef of the restaurant he moved here to open and worked insane, ungodly hours. When he was home, he was exhausted and usually only slept, or had the occasional "family dinner" on Monday's with Niall. As long as Niall kept the house clean, his father never questioned him. This is why the Horan home had become their groups usual spot.  
"A right blast, obviously. So who's the new dealer?" She asked laying her head back against the soft fabric of the couch, feeling every fiber of its material with just the back of her head.  
"Harry, he just moved here. Fit isn't he?"  
She laughed. "Lots of people are fit, Ni."  
"Yea well you don't always comment on every dealer asking about their life," He laughed back. "What'd you get?"  
"I have no idea," she laughed. "Some type of new magic pills. They're brilliant."

They idly chatted, mostly about nothing and Niall decided to call the rest of their gang to hangout. It was a Saturday night after all. Surely someone knew of something going on that wasn't absolute rubbish. 

The pills she had taken were still rushing through her veins making her feel more alive then ever, by the time they all arrived. It had been about a half hour in time and now DJ, Zayn, Ellie and Jane were seated on and around Niall's couch. 

"Heard that prick Nick Grimshaw's having a party. What do you say we go crash it and drink all his booze," DJ offered. Effy laughed and everyone agreed. Ellie and Jane took shots and carried Niall's bottle of Captain Morgan with them outside, as DJ and NIall followed them out, talking about some kids they hoped they'd see at the party whom they owed a proper right hook. Zayn stayed beyond and joined Effy on the couch. She was soaring, high and he seemed to notice. 

"You know we don't all have to go. I mean, if you aren't feeling up to it..." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down uncomfortably. Even after they'd fucked plenty of times he was still nervous around her. A lot of guys were nervous around Effy, and Zayn knew that having shagged her didn't by any means mean he had a shot with the actual love of his life.  
Effy snorted a lowly manic sounding laugh and stood up woozily. "I'm always up for everything," she told him, leaving him to wonder if she had really meant that as suggestively as he had heard it. 

They arrived to the party and walked in like they belonged there. Niall and DJ grabbed beers and quickly went to search for whoever it was they were looking for. Ellie and Danielle stood by the make shift bar sharing a spliff and Effy wandered into the kitchen of the house without knowing why really.  
She walked past faces, familiar and unfamiliar, and took everything around her in. She found her way into the living room, past the drunk couple groping each other and found a few people dancing obliviously to some horrid rap music. She smiled and made her way into the middle of them. Effy felt the music move through her entire body, enveloping her. She closed her eyes and lulled her head back a little as she swayed back and forth to the melody. As the chorus approached, she got into it even more and let herself completely go into the motions. She felt a body come up behind her, grinding into her hips and she smiled again and leaned into it more, never opening her eyes or stopping. The song ended and she kept swaying.  
"Here." Someone handed her a drink. She took it without turning around and brought it to her lips draining it a bit too fast. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was, it must have been the pills she thought to herself. The next song started up and she began dancing again when she heard a familiar voice shouting over the music.  
"Do you always take drinks from strangers without even looking at them first?" She slowly turned around, her eyes struggling to focus. They couldn't miss the curly mop of hair and piercing green eyes. She smiled too widely, her oblivious state painfully obvious for once. Her eyes closed again and she continued dancing, never bothering to respond to him or turn back away from him. The drink she had just downed started to take its affect and suddenly she felt the room start to sway beneath her. Her eyes tried to focus as hands grabbed her arms. She heard a voice shouting over the music but she couldn't register it. A pair of green eyes worriedly stared back at her as her blue ones shut once again. 

Effy couldn't see anything but darkness. But she heard voices. Ellie.  
"No you twat, she's not stupid. Trust me she's totally fine. You'll see."  
A raspy voice responded to her. "I don't know-"  
He stopped as she opened her eyes. They both looked at her and she was still properly fucked so she hadn't been out long. She broke into a manic laughter and Ellie joined in. The green eyed boy looked from girl to girl in confusion.  
"See you later Ef," she said still laughing as she left the bedroom and returned to the party. Ellie had known Effy for a long time. They knew a lot about each other, but not everything. They were good at reading each other though and so Effy knew Ellie could tell she was okay now. And she was glad because the last thing she wanted was attention on her, having people worry. She could handle herself and always did. 

"Uh, did I miss something? Or do you always go passing out when you talk to guys at parties?"  
She propped herself up on her elbows and smirked at him. "I suppose I should thank you. What's your name curly?"  
He looked at her with an unreadable expression. "Harry," he said in a tone that she wasn't used to. 

"Effy?" They both stopped and turned towards the door as a voice was approaching. 

"Ef - oh, uh, sorry then.." Zayn started awkwardly, looking down. "I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay.."  
She smiled at him, that mischievous smile that he loved and hated at the same time.  
"Great actually, come on let's dance," she said reaching her hand out towards him and inching herself off the bed. They walked through the door of the bedroom, Effy turning back once more just briefly enough to flash her smirk at Harry, who surprised her by showing off a set of perfect teeth with an even bigger smirk than hers.  
She was definitely intrigued.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry left the party and began walking. The night reminded him of the last night he had spent in his old house. He would refuse to call it a home because it wasn't really. His mum had been diagnosed with cancer a few months back and that's when everything really went to shit. His father was a right prick and wanted to leave, was going to leave, until she was diagnosed. He wanted to seem like a family man, a devoted husband who would stick by his wife and help her through it. Harry wished he would have just left and let the neighbors really see what an arse he is. He wondered who's idea it actually was for his mum to stay in the hospital; his dad's so he wouldn't have to wait on her, or hers, so she would actually have a chance and not have to rely on Dean. Yes, Harry thought, Dean because he wasn't a fucking father to him anymore. Dean spent most of his time out, doing god knows what (partying like he's fucking 20 again) with god knows who (that 25 year old slut Brittany). His sister, Gemma, became almost completely absent after the diagnosis. She couldn't bare to stay at the house and Harry only really saw her if they visited their mum on the same day. He missed the days when they were kids and their parents seemed happy together and he and Gemma used to tell each other everything and be close and whatnot. Then again, he didn't really fancy having to say oh yea I'm always out all day and night because I'm a drug dealer now, Gem aren't you proud of me? 

Harry had gotten into the drug scene totally by accident. He was going for a walk one night to get out of the house after he overheard Dean on the phone with (one of) his lover(s). It been a particularly tough day for his mum and he just couldn't bare to hear it. So he went out, walked and walked without paying much attention to anything except his endless, rambling thoughts. Suddenly tired, cold and thirsty as hell, Harry looked around to find he had no bloody clue where he was. He shrugged it off and walked towards a pub across the street, deciding at least it would be warm in there. It was loud and dark, exactly what Harry needed. Somewhere he could just blend in and sit alone. He took a seat at a small table towards the back and ran a hand through his curly hair. He looked around at all the smiling, laughing, chatty people, and couldn't help but picture Dean and whatever fucking whore he was probably busy shagging right now. Harry sighed angerly and got up in a huff, making his way to the bathroom. "Fucking hell!" He yelled, thinking it was empty.   
A stall opened to reveal a tall, lanky bloke with a droopy smile.   
"Alright then?" The guy asked, smile never faltering.   
"Fucking brilliant," Harry sighed out, turning to head back out, annoyed that someone had heard him, and even more so that he felt the need to ask him about it.   
"I'm a good listener, like, proper good. Top notch even," the guy replied, cheesy smile now revealing teeth.  
Harry sighed. He could have just walked out of the bathroom, and kept right on walking out of the pub and out of whatever part of town he landed himself in, but he didn't. He sighed and leaned against the wall and looked at the man again. He couldn't have been much older than Harry. His eyes were dazed as fuck, but Harry saw something in them that he felt he could trust. Maybe Harry was just tired and not thinking clearly, but this guy was obviously fucked up and Harry figured there was a .078 percent chance he'd ever see the guy again anyway, so he decided to see what getting it all off his chest would do for him. 

Twenty five minutes and six cigarettes later, Harry had told this stranger everything about his life. About his family, his mom, about how he had no real friends because mostly everyone just felt bad for him because he had a sick mum, about how his sister was his best friend until she decided to fuck off and leave him behind. The stranger just listened, and gave Harry his honest opinion. He liked how he didn't feel the need to sugarcoat anything, for fear Harry might break and lose it. He hated how everyone treated him like that. Yes, his mum was sick, and yes his home life sucked and it was a shit situation, but he wasn't a fucking ticking time bomb.   
"I'm Alex, by the way." Suddenly this was getting too personal for Harry.  
"Right, cool. Well, uh, thanks for listening then, Alex. I should get going," He said turning to walk away.   
"Wait hold on a second, yea?"  
Alex pulled his back away from the wall and inched closer to Harry. He glanced around once, making sure they were alone, before sticking his hand into his pocket and placing a small bag in Harry's hand.  
Harry just looked at it and back at Alex with a blank, unknowing look.  
"What then?" He asked blanky.   
Alex burst into a short laughter. "Never done it then?"   
Harry examined the bag, for quite literally no reason. He had never done any drug besides the occasional spliff whenever he actually agreed to accept some charity invitation from one of his classmates. He shook hs head.   
"What is it?"  
"MDMA," Alex stated. Harry nodded slightly. He had heard of it, obviously, but knew pretty much nothing about it, and had absolutely no idea why he was holding it in his hand right now outside of a pub he still couldn't tell you the location of, at 3:45 in the morning on a Wednesday. 

He still wasn't sure what had actually happened that night as he walked through his front door, and made his way into the shower to get ready for college, without so much as a wink of sleep. He briefly wondered why he even bothered to go at all because it wasn't like anyone was even there to make him go. But he figured he would rather be in class then be home and wake up to find Dean with one of his many lovers.

He wondered why in the hell he had just agreed to sell MDMA with some guy he didn't even know, as he turned the water off and put a towel around his waist. But still, he picked up the baggy and placed it inside the pocket of his skinny jeans before heading out the door. 

Harry hadn't even been the least bit worried about getting caught with it, or wondering what his classmates would think when he asked them. He figured if anything they would just say oh poor boy with the sick mother just wanted to feel okay again. As fucked up as he knew that was, it probably would fucking work if it came to that. 

So he went about his day, sold his baggy to some bloke with weird hair, and went back to the pub that night to meet Alex.

And that was the beginning of everything that became Harry's life now. He's a full time dealer, part time user who was far from the clueless boy he was just a few months ago. He knew everything there was to know about everything he sold, and had tried all of it at least twice. He was persuasive as all hell, and an absolute pro salesman. He was charming and had a way with words, and a way of making both girls and guys want to follow him into an alleyway. Harry knew he was good at what he did and it was the distraction he needed. He felt important again, like people depended on him, needed him to show up. He knew that was wrong somehow, but when you have a constant connection to a collection to A+ drugs, it was hard to care much. He still visited his mum every week, brought her flowers, was a good son. After all, just because he was drug dealer didn't mean he had to become a heartless monster, now did it?

His down memory lane was over as he approached the familiar tree that he absolutely fucking hated, seeing as it blocked the entire view of the place. Harry sighed and walked through the door of his flat, that he now shared with Alex (who had in fact become his best mate), after the party and collapsed onto his bed, his mind drifting one last time to the girl with the bright blue eyes and devious smile before falling into one of the most peaceful sleeps he'd ever experienced. 

 

Harry woke up with a start, glancing around his room with tired eyes to find he was in fact alone. He sat up and sighed, running a hand through his mess of curls and tried to ignore the fact that just moments ago he was in a dream land of blue eyes peering into his, and wet kisses up and down his now painfully erect penis. He glanced at the time, nearing half 1. No time for wank.   
He walked out of his bedroom to find Alex on the phone in the kitchen.   
"Right then, twenty minutes."   
Harry poured himself a cup of the disgustingly strong coffee he had become accustomed to. At his old house, Harry would have woken up and walked downstairs to find his mum pouring him a nice cup of tea, perfectly made, as if she could sense the exact moment he would be getting up. Gemma would be there, buttering toast, laughing at his bedhead playfully. If he thought back far enough, even Dean would be there reading the paper and pretending to be human. But Harry didn't mess that. To him, the days of a full family life seemed like someone else's story, and thinking about how much all four of them had changed since then, it almost was. No, Harry liked to remember the times Dean hadn't been there, been away of business or whatever, when it was just him, Gemma and their mum, talking and laughing around tea and toast. But that wasn't his life anymore and hadn't been for a while.   
"Going to the hospital today Haz?" Alex asked putting his phone back into his jacket pocket.   
Harry took a sip of coffee and cringed at the bitter taste. "Yea, I'm going early today. Sunday's are always busy."   
Harry hated Sundays almost as much as he hated Mondays, but the weekend was a different time entirely. People hung around at the hospital, visiting, sometimes spending the last moments they had with a loved one. The next day, Mondays, when everyone had to head back to work left the hospital inpatients in a harsh reality once again that never fully sank in; that they were alone yet again. Harry stopped visiting his mum every weekend. When she was first in, he would be there almost constantly from the time he left college on Friday straight through to Sunday evening. But now weekends were when Dean would make a random appearance, just to keep the cover up. Harry couldn't bare to run into him, not since he moved out. If he had it his way, he would pretend that Dean didn't even exist. So Harry visited his mum during the week, sometimes more than once if he was feeling particularly homesick, or if he was having a slow week. He hated Mondays, but he made himself go every week for his mum. He knew she had seen people she knew there, people who had become her friends, get visited all weekend, get better and leave or get worse and die. It made Harry sick to think his mum had to be in the environment she was in, but whatever she was going through, her eyes always lit up when he was there. And for Harry, that was sometimes the only thing that kept him going. But today, he decided he wanted to be there. He wasn't sure what it was, but something was just telling him to make an exception, just this once and go.   
"Right. Well, I'm out. Let me know when you're done," Alex started, making his way towards the door of the flat. "Hope to hear some good news today, yea?"  
Alex seemed the be the only source of optimism left in Harry's life. He still insisted that one day, Harry would come home to say "Hey, Alex! Great news! Mum's cured!" But Harry knew better, knew life didn't work like that. She had gone into remission before, but the cancer showed up again, this time in her lungs. It still wasn't that bad, she was being treated and not getting worse, but because it had happened once already, he knew she was prone to it popping up somewhere else too. He had made it his duty to mentally prepare himself every week for the chance that he would show up to the hospital to find her MRI results lit up like a Christmas tree, cancer all over. It hadn't happened yet, thank God, but Harry didn't rule it out. It was better to be prepared for it. 

Harry finished his God awful coffee and took a shower. He walked around the flat until he located his phone (which he had discovered, finally in the refrigerator) and found a new text from Niall.  
Harry had sold drugs to plenty of people by now, a lot his age. But none of them had ever made the effort of trying to invite him to hangout with them. He found it odd, and part of him (the part that had had to become cold and suspicious) thought that it was just a trick to use him and trick him into giving them free shit. Harry felt like his emotionally distressed side was always showing, however hard he worked to hide it. He loved Alex, he was a great friend to him, but he sometimes wished he had a larger group of friends. The other part of him, thought maybe that's just the kind of bloke Niall was, and Harry supposed he could try and give them a chance and see how it went at least. 

He stepped outside into an exceptionally strong burst of cold wind and wished he wasn't so damned lazy and would go back inside to get a thicker jacket. But he wasn't going to do that. He waited with his hands in his pocket for the bus to show up (late, as usual) and took a seat in the far left in the back. He thought about how his life might have turned out if it was Dean who was sick instead of his mum. He knew he should feel bad thinking such a thing, but he also really didn't give a fuck.   
He walked through the bright white halls to his mum's room and found the door shut, and a familiar figure sitting on the chair outside it.  
"Hey Gem," he said quietly, taking the seat next to her.   
"Hi Harry." She looked tired, worn out and pale. Harry remembered his flashback this morning and thought it was a total contrast from the sister he chose to remember. He knew it had been a while, but he swore she looked exceptionally skinny and frail. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she looked strung out. (He tried to ignore the fact that he knew all about that so well.)   
This was the first time he had seen Gemma since he moved in with Alex. He was further away now, and it just happened that way that the two of them rarely ever ended up at the hospital at the same time.   
He cleared his throat, awkwardly. She didn't look up from her gaze on the tiled floor.   
"Is everything..." He couldn't bring himself to ask if she was okay, because although he prepped himself for it every week, he still knew he would never be ready to hear his mum was going to die.  
"Yea they're just cleaning her up from the scan. Came back the same though." She still didn't look at Harry, but it looked like she wanted to say something else. She checked her phone, quickly, and sprung up.  
"Uh, well since you're here.." She started, turning towards the exit. "Tell her I had to go to work, will you."  
She turned and walked away, never looking at his face, and Harry was hit with a dreadful silence and the realization that now he had to worry about both his mum and his sister dying. 

Harry was half way through his third cigarette by the time the bus showed up. His mum had been as happy to see him as always, but she looked exhausted. Her bright brown eyes that always seemed to sing melodies to him looked tired and as if they had been reduced to a dull whisper. Harry tried not to dwell on it, telling himself everything was fine. It had to be fine, because if he let himself think it wasn't, he'd end up right back where he was two months ago, and he couldn't do that to his mum. He couldn't let both of her children leave her alone there. He wasn't like Dean after all, and that's what kept him grounded.   
So he took a seat on the bus and pulled out his phone, deciding to respond to Niall's invitation (and pretended not to check, again, that his text to the blue eyed mystery girl had in fact sent since he didn't get a response). After all, Harry definitely needed a distraction today. 

 

Effy woke up to find Niall half on top of her, and Ellie a few steps away on the floor. She reached around her until she found her cellphone, and opened it to find 6 new texts.   
The first from Liam, saying "Ok sis see you tomorrow for brunch with the fam love u xx(:"  
So she guessed someone had had the sense to text Liam that she was sleeping at Niall's.   
The next 3 were from Zayn.   
"Had fun tonight hope you sleep ok" leaving her to wonder if they had fucked or not.  
"Left some water for you on the table behind the couch too" Confirming yes, they probably had fucked or else Zayn probably wouldn't have bothered coming back to Niall's, and   
"Hey hope you're feeling ok today just wanted to remind u you have brunch today talk to you later Ef"   
The next text was from Niall, a blank.  
And the last was from an unknown number. "You're an interesting girl Ms. Payne"  
And somehow she didn't need anything to tell her it was from Harry.

Effy sighed and wiggled her way out from under Niall, grabbing the glass of water Zayn left and taking a sip while making her way over to the front door. She searched until she found her bag under a pile of coats and pulled a pill out from it. She popped it into her mouth and downed the rest of the water, before putting her leather jacket on and stepping outside. 

It was a particularly chilly day, but Effy didn't mind the walk back to her house. She liked this time of morning, when it was quiet, most people already out of their houses and at a specific location, or still inside sleeping. Sundays meant "family brunch." Effy could never understand why the fuck anyone needed such a thing, but she went nonetheless. She smoked a cigarette and found herself wanting a shot or two before walking into her house, though she wasn't sure why. It was just her Liam and their mum, since her father was in Spain doing some research or something. She wasn't entirely sure for what. She stopped in front of her house and looked at it, before pulling her phone out of her pocket and sending a text.   
"Fucking SOS when I get done. I hope all you wankers are awake in two hours when I get out of here"  
She walked up the few stairs and opened the door when her phone vibrated in her hand. It was from Zayn, of course.  
"Everything ok?" She sighed and put her phone away. She wasn't in the mood for this today.  
Effy kept to herself a lot. She rarely ever let anyone in her head, and even less rarely talked about anything that was bothering her. Sometimes, there was a lot that did, and she felt just completely overwhelmed. Her friends all knew by now to not even ask what it was, but they were always there to get totally fucked with her, whatever time of day or night it was. If she was being honest, she didn't even fully know herself. They had had a good night, and she wasn't extremely hungover so she wasn't too sure why she felt the need inside of her to get fucked up for the entire rest of the day and night, but she wasn't going to argue with it. After all, not indulging in your cravings is bad for the soul. Or something like that, she swore she remembered reading. 

She walked into her house as her mum was setting the table.  
"Hi babe, have fun last night?" Her mum smiled at her. She definitely did but she knew her mum was referring to last night out with Liam, before everything else. She smiled anyway. "Loads. Need help?" Effy took the pile of dishes and set them around the table.   
Liam came down and joined them and they ate their food and Effy mostly sat there quietly and listened to their idle chat, occasionally chiming in when she felt it was necessary. The usual. 

It wasn't that she didn't like her family or anything. She supposed she loved them, in the regular way. Effy just couldn't always deal with people. People were nosy and abrasive and invasive, and she loved her family, but often times families are the worst offenders. She was only ever truly herself when she was alone, and she guessed the next best thing was with her friends. She helped clear the dishes and dried them after Liam handed them to her fresh from the sink. He somehow managed to get soap on his face and Effy just smiled slightly and shook her head. She did love Liam, obviously, she just didn't see the reason they had to be so particularly close and hang out together and such. Especially since they had basically nothing in common. They talked and when the dishes were away and the kitchen cleaned, Effy went up to shower.   
She stripped down and checked her phone.   
"Hope you're ok Ef but we're down for whatever you want," from Zayn. Of course he would say that, of course he said "we" and not "I'm" but Effy knew even if no one else was, Zayn would be anyway. She wondered what exactly they did last night together, and she contemplated replying to him with a picture of her tits to really fuck with him. She decided against it. She wasn't feeling very flirty today.   
The next was from Niall. "Should I tell Harry to come along?"  
Effy wasn't sure if he meant that as bring Harry around to score, or bring Harry around as a new mate, or bring Harry around since you clearly want to shag him. She totally didn't want to shag Harry. He was just..he didn't fit her necessary requirements for a random fuck, since he was clearly gonna be around, what with them all scoring from him, and him showing up at the same parties and clubs as them. So no, she was most certainly NOT going to fuck Harry, even if he did have an amazingly proportional face and enticing eyes that she was almost positive she could get lost in if she cared to stare long enough. Effy cleared her head and decided she desperately needed to get fucked up, and secretly hoped Harry would not be there. 

Effy left the house, fresh out of the shower wearing another pair of black skinny jeans, this pair slightly lighter than the pair she wore last night and the same leather jacket, her go to jacket even when it was too fucking cold to not be wearing a fully lined winter parka. She hadn't bothered to do much of anything with her hair and she hadn't cared enough to really scrub her face long enough to get all her eyeliner off from last night. She hoped Harry wouldn't be there because she certainly was not dressed to impress. 

She walked into Niall's and barely said hello to everyone, not feeling talkative at all, and took a bottle of vodka over to the chair with her. She unscrewed the top before she even sat down and took a long pull. She wanted to get fucked up, and she wanted it to be now.   
"Oh hey Ef, how was brunch?" Niall asked lighting a spliff.   
Effy took another pull of vodka. "Fine."  
Zayn watched her take another sip, this one a bit smaller, with worried eyes, but said nothing. He might have just payed extra attention to her considering her was fucking in love with her, but he felt like he knew her well enough to be able to read her. When she didn't even attempt being sarcastic or witty, Zayn knew it meant Effy was having a particularly off day. He wished she would tell him what exactly that meant.  
A half hour later, Effy was already drunk. She was hiding it, a bit, but she was most definitely drunk. Niall had taken a few shots but everyone else was sitting around smoking some spliff, still not awake enough to be ready to dive back into alcohol yet. Niall checked his phone then got up making his way over to the door.   
"Got you a surprise Ef," he said opening the door. She pulled the bottle away from her mouth and turned with a swimmy head to find a set of curls walking through the Horans' front door. Oh fucking hell she thought.  
"I hope it's some more of those magic pills," she said dryly. "Or anything that will get me totally fucked right away."  
Harry looked back to Niall with questioning eyes wondering why this girl, who was clearly drunk, was so set on getting plastered at barely 3 in the afternoon.   
"Whatever you want, love," Harry said to her with a cheeky grin that Zayn wished he could have ripped right off of his face. 

Harry took his coat off and sat down next to Niall, who was introducing him to everyone else.   
"You're so bloody cute!" Jane cooed pulling lightly on his curly locks. "Look at all your curls! Better keep you away from Maggie she's an absolute sucker for them."  
Maggie was Jane's girlfriend, who was bi. Not that either one of them would ever even acknowledge another human being. They were so totally in love that it was blinding to anyone around them, and Effy wasn't sure, but she thought she might have said that out loud. Judging by the look on Niall's face, she guessed she was right. Niall and Effy were extremely close. So close, that Zayn would be jealous as fuck if they weren't like brother and sister. They'd been there for each other through heartbreak (Niall's), family problems, college problems, overdose (Effy's), everything really. Niall was the brother she wished she had. She didn't want to replace Liam, she just wanted a brother like Niall to balance out having one like Liam. But Effy supposed the situation was close enough. It occurred to her that she was fucking wasted, but it wasn't enough. She walked, or tried her hardest not to stumble, over to Harry. He was siting there, texting, with his tongue ever so slightly sticking out from between his lips and Effy found the sight so stupidly arousing she had to fight the voice in her head telling her to climb onto his lap and snog the absolute shit out of him. She laughed at this, out loud, and Harry looked up at her and smiled.   
"What's up?" And god his voice. He was so fucking perfect, it was like a sick joke. Besides the fact that he was gorgeous, he had the most appealing rasp to his voice and the cheekiest smile that displayed a set of white teeth that could probably rival the sun. Effy fought again to control herself and having realized she must have been standing there staring at him for hours, she began to laugh so much she all but fell into his arms. He helped steady her onto the couch, alarmingly close to him, their shoulders touching, and Jesus Effy could feel how turned on she was by the small contact. She was also I bit too drunk and ended up resting her head on his broad shoulder, totally by accident. She found herself thinking if they were alone, she would have already fucked him twice by now. Instead she peered up at him, her head still on his shoulder.   
"Got any of those pills?" She slurred slightly.  
Harry's smirk never left his face. "You sure you need them?" He asked amusedly.   
"Totally fucking sure," and God if she had said it any more suggestively her hand would have been in his lap, and to be honest, it almost ended up there.   
He shifted slightly to get into his pocket without making her lift her head up, and it caused Effy to be hit with a faint but unmissable smell that she was sure she had smelled before, but fuck her if it didn't smell absolutely heavenly on Harry.   
She needed to get these pills and get the fuck away from Harry. She needed to take the pills and go fuck Zayn to relieve her sexual tension, she corrected herself.   
"Here," Harry said taking her hand and turning it palm up to place two small pills in it. Their hands lingered just a second too long and if this was a movie this would have been the part where they kissed. But instead Effy took her hand up to her mouth and dry swallowed them, never breaking eye contact with the unmatchable green that stared back at her in amazement and wonder as she got up and swayed away.  
"Thanks."

Effy walked by where Niall was sitting on the floor with a new spliff, and was pulled onto his lap.   
"So you gonna shag him or not Ef?" he asked playfully.   
Effy chuckled, almost nervously, and glanced around until she found Zayn. "Yea," she said. "I so, totally am."   
She stumbled over to Zayn and fell into his lap, their lips connecting, harshly.   
"Fuck me. Now," she whispered into his ear and he immediately jumped up and guided her by the hand into Niall's bedroom, and tried (and failed) to hide his smirk when he caught green eyes watching them intently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is still a bit boring but the drama is all gonna start soon now that the backgrounds are set up xx


	3. Chapter 3

Harry woke up, tired as fuck to his phone vibrating. "Yea," he said into it, not bothering to open his eyes enough to check who it was. The voice on the other end, however, sent him sitting up, eyes suddenly forgetting their exhaustion.  
"Gemma," he said as a combination of a question and a statement, with a bit of utter shock mixed in.  
"Yea, uh, I was wondering if, if you were like, busy, like right now," she started. "Like I was thinking we could maybe like..catch up."  
Something about the way she sounded made Harry worry and he agreed to meet her a view blocks over into town.

He stood there, awkwardly, not knowing what the fuck to expect. He suddenly spotted blonde hair up in a messy bun, wild eyes locking with his, sending what looked like relief through them. She quickened her pace over to him and they sat down on a bench. Harry finally was able to really look at his sister. She was so small, she looked almost sickly. He briefly wondered if she was sick too, having it not be totally crazy seeing as it did run in the family. Gemma spoke though, before he had time to really contemplate the thought.  
"So, like, Harry. Uh, I was wondering like. I know you, you're uh holding. And like, I just. I owe some people some money and I swear to God, Harry I'll pay you back like totally soon. I just like need something to get me through until I can get the money for them. If you could just like spot me. Like Harry I swear on Mum I'll pay you back like super fucking quick." She was shaking, her hands cupped together in her lap, her eyes wild with desperation, peering into his with helplessness.  
"And I mean like. I know you can spot me Harry. Everyone knows you and that bloke Alex are all shagged up doing like fucking good business."  
"We're not shagged up Gem, Jesus we're mates and we work together." Harry wasn't sure why that had gotten so angry. Gemma had been the one he told when he discovered he had a crush on the boy in his class in grade 2, but Harry passed that off as being 8 years old, because he wasn't gay. He liked tits, and pussy and that was that. He wondered if anyone else that he was fucking Alex, but was quickly snapped back into this harsh reality in front of him.  
Harry didn't want to help his sister fuel her addiction, but he also didn't want to send her off into the fucked up world he knew too well, knowing what she would probably be willing to do or get herself into and what could potentially happen to her. So he agreed with a sigh, and sad eyes, trying to shake the feeling that he very well could be supplying his sister with the dose of Heroin that might kill her. 

In the end, Harry had agreed with his own condition. He told Gemma that he couldn't get all that she had asked for all at once. It was a lie, obviously, but he wanted to have an excuse to at least see her and how she was doing. He couldn't even imagine giving her a full 2 grams and finding out later she had overdosed because he gave it all to her at once. He hadn't seen or even spoken to her in months and he didn't know the lengths of her addiction. He just couldn't risk it. So he agreed to meet her later with the bag and went back to the flat. Alex wasn't there and as Harry found himself alone with his thoughts he really began to wonder why his life was becoming such a mess. He went into the cabinet next the sink and moved the garbage out of the way to reveal the stash of drugs they kept in the flat. He found the heroin and held it in his hand, just looking at it. Millions of thoughts raced through his head and Harry found himself clenching his eyes shut tight, wishing he could ignore them all. He thought about wha else he could do, because there had to be something, there just had to be some way around this. He opened his eyes and looked again at the bag. Harry thought about all of the times he had sold heroin, which wasn't extremely often, and thought about the customers who had bought it. He thought about how utterly and disgustingly fucked up they all looked, and wondered how anyone could ever get to that point (although he wasn't as foreign to the concept as he pretended to be). He thought about Gemma again, and nearly vomited when he started picturing her face on one the bodies of those people. He couldn't even get through the image of her doing that before he sat up, stopping his brain from showing him. (But not before his thoughts once again reminded him that if she did end up like that after this, the blood would be on his hands.)

Everything about this just felt wrong to him. Where was she even living? With who? Harry realized that he didn't even know his sister anymore. Was someone gonna be there with her? What if she was alone and fell asleep on her back and ended up choking on her vomit and dying? That would be on him then. But fuck, if he didn't just give it to her what would she be out there doing instead to get it? Harry had seen some pretty fucked up things that people do for drugs first hand. He couldn't send her out into that. Even if it meant meeting her every fucking four hours to give her more, he would rather do that then chance her overdosing.  
Harry suddenly started panicking. What if her withdrawal started getting fucking bad and she couldn't wait until later? He groaned out and ran his hands desperately through his hair before turning and walking out of the flat, bag in his pocket.  
He had already felt, partly, like he had lost Gemma after she moved out. But he had always thought he lost her to a better world than what they were stuck in. This wasn't what Harry had imagined. Now that he knew, now that Gemma was back in his life and he was fucking supplying her, it was all too much. It was too real. He had to worry about the last remaining part of his family dying. His entire family was in danger of dying. Harry wondered when death decided to surround him like this. He thought it was fucked up. (He also thought that maybe death had been after him all along and was going after his family because it couldn't get to him. He thought that everything was all his fault all along, but he ignored that too.)  
He called Gemma and said to meet him at the same spot and by the time he got there, she was on the bench tapping her phone eagerly with a shaking finger. She met him with the same wide desperation filled eyes that he hated, and all but ran after she took the bag. She mumbled a "thanks so much" and added something that sounded alarmingly close to "little bro" and Harry just couldn't take this. What if this was the last time he saw her? No, just no. He wouldn't let that happen.  
"Gem!" He got up and jogged over to catch up with her. The desperation in her eyes had increased and Harry wanted to fucking cry.  
"I, um," he struggled with words. "I don't even know where you're living now." Harry looked down, half expecting her to laugh or yell at him.  
"James place. Around the corner from the cemetery. #28." He looked up at her and she looked back, clearly waiting for him to say more.  
"Um, right. Good. Well, like, call me or something.."  
"Will Haz, gotta go."  
And Harry watched her speed walk away, hand never seemingly to lose it's tight grip on the bag of her fuel stuffed inside her coat pocket.  
He stood there, for what seemed like hours, just watching her figure get farther and farther away until it was completely out of view. He kept staring still, because the entire situation left him paralyzed with anxiety and guilt. A cold wind came and danced around him, and Harry shut his eyes and turned around to walk home with the thought still lingering that that wind was death itself whispering to him. 

Harry couldn't take anything anymore. He just fucking couldn't. His life was a fucking joke, a joke that everyone seemed to be in on. He walked and walked, trying to clear his head, with no luck. What had happened to Gemma? What made it get like this, where she can't even keep up paying for her smack, and couldn't go a day without it? Harry felt sick. There was a massive knot in his stomach that tightened with every thought and constricted with every question. Who did she live with? Could they even pay for it? Did she have heat? Jesus Harry, why didn't you invite her back to the flat, he cursed himself. She probably wouldn't have agreed but what if she had? He could have had her right there to keep an eye on.  
Eyes. He thought back to his mum. Her eyes always got him through everything. Brighter than any fucking stars. But when he saw her her eyes were duller, like they were losing life. And fuck, Harry couldn't take thinking about that right now.  
Fucking eyes.  
Piercing blue eyes.  
Piercing blue eyes that locked with yours before going and fucking another guy.  
Harry was done.

He got back to the flat, slamming the door and running straight into his room, ignoring Alex. He paced around, pulling at his hair, trying to calm himself down enough to figure out a plan. Fuck it. Just fuck it, he thought. He opened the door to his room too hard, causing it to meet harshly with the wall, which caused Alex to look up from where he was seated at the kitchen table. He was cutting and weighing, dividing parts and stuffing them into little baggies. Harry felt momentarily sick, wondering why in the fuck any miserable fucker even sold drugs. But then Harry remembered that he did, and even worse he remembered what he just did. What was Alex cutting? Harry got closer and his eyes went wide at the all too familiar substance. It had been so long. He completely tuned out whatever the bloody fuck Alex was saying to him, his brain not focusing on anything else but what his eyes were locked on. He grabbed a full baggy off the table, and stormed into his room. He slammed and locked the door, and turned on the stereo as loud as it could fucking go, not even paying attention, or caring, what was in it (some bloody old Sum 41 cd that he listened to all through his college years). He emptied out the bag and quickly crushed the substance and bent down, without stopping long enough to think about it. He heard a knock on the door. He inhaled the powder and it burned like fucking hell, and lit all his senses on fire. Harry fucking missed this. He snorted another bit and felt all the screaming in his head stop, except for one voice.  
No, he thought. That isn't me, that's Alex. Outside my door. Yelling because I just took some fucking meth off the table. Alex banging on the door because the last time you were anywhere near meth he was the one who found you, half way to dead. Alex who you swore you'd never do it again, who you made promise to keep it away from you.  
"Harry!" Harry laughed. Alex must be bloody screaming at the top of his lungs, that he could even hear him over the music. Harry couldn't even hear himself think; that was the point. Finally the banging stopped and Harry's mind raced to something he hadn't done since he stopped doing meth. He ran to his closet, throwing everything out of it until he found his sketch pad. He used to draw all the time, it was the only thing he really ever liked doing. He didn't ever have many friends, he didn't ever go out so he would draw fantasy worlds and alternate personas for himself and his family. He was bloody brilliant at it, to be honest. But once he started doing meth, drawing wasn't the same. It became some manic exercise, so much so that every time Harry used it served as some sort of intense excorsim to get his darkest, deepest thoughts out in horrific imagines hidden all around his old bedroom.  
Harry ignored that tho, just like he was currently ignoring everything, and began drawing whatever the fuck came into his head. 

The sun had went down and was now peaking through his windows again, and Harry was still drawing. He had stayed up for hours, getting high and drawing, never letting his high truly falter or even dull enough for him to stop. He swore to himself he needed this, that it was therapeutic. He was in the middle of his best one thus far when a knock on the door broke him out of his zone.  
"Oh fucking Christ!" Harry yelled. He turned the music off (which at some point he lowered to a normal volume) and stormed over to the door pulling it open too hard, causing him to almost fall at his own force. Harry ignored that too.  
"Fucking what then?" He huffed impatiently. Alex stood there, not moving while trying to asses the situation. His cautious eyes glanced from Harry down to the mess of a floor of his bedroom. Pages were torn out and thrown all over, completely covering the floor, and parts of the bed. Manic drawings cast everywhere. He looked back at Harry, his mouth opening slighting, but having no idea what to say. Harry rubbed at his face, which had remains of charcoal and lead on it, casting shadows onto his face. It made him look like a totally different person. Well, that mixed with the fact that his eyes were mostly black, besides a now very thin circle of green, a hazy glass covering over them.  
"I was fucking in the middle of some fucking shit, can I get back to it then since you have nothing to fucking say," Harry huffed, slumping his shoulders as his flailing arm went up to rub his nose.  
Alex knew there was no use. He had been around Harry when he was using before, and he knew he wouldn't get through to him until he came down. So he looked down in defeat and turned away, jumping slightly at the sound of the door slamming again.  
He went in defeat to take a shower, his mind overrun with thoughts of worry and question. He almost decided on bringing the entire stash of drugs into the bathroom with him, just in case Harry went looking for more, but decided against it. It wasn't like he could keep drugs away from Harry at this point. So then it was Alex's turn to ignore something. He ignored the way he felt everything around him losing something he couldn't quite figure out. 

 

"Hello?" Effy didn't recognize the number. She didn't recognize much at the moment tho, the dim lights of the club overpowering everything else.  
"I want to see you. Now," a husky voice huffed.  
"What?" She was confused. The voice sounded familiar, but something was off.  
"Need to see you."  
It clicked. "Harry?" Her heart started to beat faster in her chest at the realization. Since when did Effy Payne get nervous talking to a guy?  
"Where are you." It wasn't even a question.  
"Um, at Rutt's with everyone," she began, glancing around her to wonder where everyone was anyway. "Harry is everyth-"  
"I'll be there in ten. Or five. Stay there." Effy wanted to ask what the fuck was going on but all she was met with was a dial tone.  
What the fuck? She thought. 

Exactly twelve minutes later, Harry stormed through the club like a beast on the prowl. He walked hard, his look intent, not stopping or settling for anything. To anyone who didn't know him, he looked almost intimidating. When Effy's eyes found him, he looked extremely arousing.  
He caught sight of her and his demeanor shifted from demanding to excited as he rushed over, practically running and embraced her in a tight hug.  
"Heyyy!" He yelled over the music, smile too wide and eyes a bit too off.  
Effy noticed, but caught slight of the large bulge that was the result of skin tight pants and couldn't care less what was off about him.  
His hands let go, but fell down and lingered on her hips. He pulled her closer and bent down to whisper in her ear, and she could feel electricity passing through them at the contact. She almost missed his words.  
"What?" she yelled over the horrid Summertime Sadness remix that was now circling through the club.  
Harry responded by pulling her hips into his, allowing her to feel how hard he was, before attaching their lips, hard and meaningful. When they finally disconnected, Effy just stared up at him, mouth still slightly open, eyes wondering yet hungry. Harry smirked at her, and took her hand, guiding them through the sweaty bodies of people jumping around until they reached the bathroom. He pulled her inside and threw her into a stall, not bothering to check which bathroom they were in, or if anyone was in there.  
He kissed her again, this time just as hard. Effy swore his lips tasted like something she'd never tasted before and soon he had a hand up her skirt. She moaned into his mouth, their tongues swirling around, much like her brain, trying to keep up with the situation. Harry rubbed circles into her and kissed her harder and harder. Effy pulled back and Harry smirked at her, licking his now slightly red lips. She reached down to his pants and undid the belt. Within seconds, Harry had her tights down, his dick out and was pushing her against the wall of the bathroom stall.  
He fucked her, better than she had ever been fucked before, she thought, and when they were done, he looked down at her without a word, and kissed her again. They continued to snog until they heard someone enter the bathroom, what felt like hours later. Effy heard a familiar voice and couldn't hide her laughter, still high off her orgasm.  
"That's Jane and Maggie," she told Harry when he looked at her questioningly. They fixed all their clothing and left the stall together, Effy high on Harry and Harry still high on meth.  
"Ef - " Jane stopped when she spotted Harry climb out behind Effy, his hands on her hips, sending sparks through her body.  
"Hey, Harry. Glad you could make it," Jane chose to finish with a smirk of "I told you so" that Effy tried to ignore.

The truth was, everyone saw it coming. Harry was hot and mysterious and Effy was Effy. It was only a matter of time until it happened anyway. But Harry was too high to even care who saw him. He didn't care where he was, he didn't care who saw, he didn't care about a single fucking thing other than the outline of Effy's curves pressed up against him on the dance floor. They danced and touched and kisses, and Harry wasn't sure, but he thought at some point they stopped and went over to talk to the others. Harry didn't think he spoke to them, or if he did he couldn't remember. All he remembered was grabbing Effy again and pinning her against the wall, kissing her so hard that he swore he almost came from that alone. He didn't remember getting into a cab, but he remembered kissing her in a backseat. He didn't remember going back to his flat, though he remembered fucking on the kitchen table. He didn't remember them ending up in the shower, and then naked again in his bedroom. But there he was, getting high again while Effy slept in his bed. He got the bag out and set it on the nightstand, when his phone began vibrating.  
Suddenly Harry was brought back to everything he had been trying to forget. Mum. Gemma. Shit.  
He rushed over to his jeans and pulled the phone out. "Gem?" Hello?" He was frantic.  
"Harry." He couldn't take how relieved she sounded. Had she been trying to call? He couldn't remember, last night a blur of fast paced kisses.  
"Are you alright Gem?" He shut his eyes and pinched the top of his nose with his shaking fingers.  
"Can we meet?"

Harry left the flat without leaving any sort of note for Effy. He thought maybe he owed her an explanation, but though he didn't really care right now. He didn't have time to worry about anyone else, not with his sister, well, Harry didn't know. He didn't know if Gemma was in trouble, so he couldn't say that's what she was. He couldn't say anything. And that's what bothered him. He promised himself he wasn't going to give her anything else until he got some answers.  
Harry got the same bench a little too quickly, the meth he just snorted making his legs a little longer, and the time it took to walk a bit shorter. He leaned against it, tapping his foot, still to anxious (or high) to sit down. He was so caught up in his own head he didn't even hear Gemma approach until he felt a small hand touch his shoulder. He jolted around and saw her standing there, immediately bringing her small frame into his with forceful arms. Harry hadn't realized just how worried he was about her until she was there in front of him, looking exactly the same as she had last time. It was such a relief that he almost forgot why they were meeting.  
He pulled away, wild eyes scanning over her confused face.  
And that's when Harry realized he was alone. His mum was in the hospital and he wasn't reunited wit his sister. This wasn't Gemma. This wasn't her wanting to reconnect and get close, and hug and talk. This was wild, desperate eyes wondering why he touched her, just waiting to get her fix. This was a last resort, which probably wasn't seeming like such a bad idea anymore since she didn't have to spend a dime paying her brother. Harry wasn't stupid. He knew she was spending probably 90 percent of time getting high off what he gave her and staying inside. He plan to get the money she owed was all talk, and there was no motivation to do so while she had a constant fix. He was worried about her tho, and told her he wasn't going to give her shit more until she got part of the money for them. She agreed, too quick and Harry said he wanted to see the money next time. He almost felt bad. He almost felt like he was out of line, telling his big sister what to do. He fucking hated this. He hated watching her run away to go get high, not knowing what would happen next or if he'd see her again. He began mentally preparing himself for that possibility by telling himself he lost his sister a long, long time ago and that this was just her ghost. He walked back to the flat, hoping Effy and Alex were both gone. He suddenly found himself lower than he was just a couple minutes ago, and wished he could come down from his high so he could just sleep. He hadn't slept for two days and all he wanted was the shut the world out and just fucking sleep. So Harry decided that getting good and drunk would be close enough, so he kept walking past the street he lived on. He kept right on walking and walking and walking until he felt like he'd gotten far enough away from everything. He spotted a bar and walked across the street to it, trying his hardest to ignore the mockingly cold voice of death whispering into his ears. 

 

If Effy had ever went home with a guy and woke to up to find him nowhere in sight, she had assumed she would be relieved. So when she got out of Harry's bed and discovered he wasn't anywhere in the flat at all, she ignored the fact that she was somewhat disappointed. She pretended like Harry was just another fuck; another random shag. She put on her clothes and ignored the way she mind chose to keep replaying Harry's fingers lingering on her body. She ignored the way she wanted to stay close enough to him to feel his hands somewhere on her. That wasn't how Effy was. She didn't like guys. She didn't want any more than she could get in a night. So she walked home and continued to ignore the fact that she felt like a piece (an extremely small, totally unimportant piece, like a belly button or something) of her was suddenly not with her anymore.  
Unlike Harry, Effy fully remembered the night before and remembered how Niall wouldn't shut the fuck up about how he told her, and how he set it up, and as her phone vibrated in her pocket she found he still wouldn't.  
She sighed and pressed the Call button.  
A cheery voice met her on the other end. "I fuckin-"  
"Niall I swear to God if you say it one more time."  
He laughed but obliged.  
"I'm fucking starving let's go eat." Effy didn't bother asking Niall if he wanted to go eat with her. She didn't bother asking him if he wanted to do anything anymore, just as he didn't ask her (except for sometimes because Effy just has that effect on people where they think they need her approval). They knew each other so fucking long that they just knew they'd be there for each other even for the little things. 

They sat there at the counter of the diner, Effy eating pancakes but wishing she had vodka, and Niall making small talk wishing he could ask about Harry.  
He decided to talk about Zayn instead.  
"So have you thought of how you're gonna tell Zayn?"  
She groaned to herself because she didn't want to fucking deal with that right now. "Tell him what," she said cooly, being the absolute pro and playing it cool that she was.  
Niall scoffed a laugh. "Oh tell me you don't know how he thinks he has an actual chance now that you keep fucking him." Effy rolled her eyes.  
"I fucked him once, Ni," she started. "One fucking time. In your bed by the way. In case you were wondering."  
Niall mocked a laugh. "But seriously he's gonna be crushed when he finds out about you and Harry."  
Effy found herself uncharacteristically defensive. "There is no me and Harry, Niall. He fucked, it was fun. That's all." She ignored the way she really, really hoped that wasn't true.  
"That's all?" He asked, doubtingly. "That is so not all, you pair are perfect for each other. He's gonna be the one, Ef, watch." Niall said, going back to his toast.  
Effy sighed at the way he insisted on calling it that. Niall had been saying for years that one day Effy was going to find "the one" guy that she actually developed feelings for. Niall refused to believe her sociopath claim, and also swore on all that he could think of that he was going to be the one to set her up with this bloke. She wasn't sure, but she thought he may even have a bet going on it.  
"You barely even know him."  
"Yea well, that's gonna change now that you're shagging him," he said casually, taking another bite of toast. "Suppose he'll be around more often now. We'll all get to know him."  
Effy thought that she would like to know Harry. He was so mysterious, but not in an intentional way. He was private, quiet. He kept to himself and Effy recognized all these traits because they mirrored her own. She wanted to know Harry, to know why he was like he was, and to know why his eyes looked like they had so much to say. But she ignored that. Because Effy Payne doesn't want to know people, they want to know her. And she especially doesn't ever get to know any more about a bloke than the size and power of his dick.  
She continued to think about Harry's, and the way he had the power to fuck her like no one else had been able to before, as she walked through the door of her house.  
"Hey Elizabeth," Liam said cheerfully, smiling at her from the couch. She was so preoccupied (and turned on) by thoughts of Harry that she didn't even feel the need the roll her eyes at the name. She joined him on the couch, and found she was actually enjoying herself. It had been a long time since she and Liam actually hung out like this and watched telly. She decided it hadn't been since they were kids, but today she found she didn't mind watching her older brother giggle at cartoons. She chose to ignore the fact that Harry Styles had quite possibly taken a part of her, and left her a different person. She also ignored the fact that she would most definitely be shagging him again, even if she had to make it happen herself (which she doubted would happen since it never did). She sat there with her brother, indulging him in conversation, and even stayed when their mum joined them. It almost felt like old times; like before something inside of her turned dark. She almost felt like Harry was dangerous in a way, like her was darker than she was, and she couldn't figure out why she thought so. Effy didn't know why it intrigued her either, but she decided it did, and found her mind continuously wandering back to the curly haired boy and wondering what he was doing, along with what makes him tick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made this chapter a bit longer, would love to hear some feedback on how you think its progressing so far and thank you to anyone who's actually taken the time to read so far (:


	4. Chapter 4

Effy sat there, eyes rolling with boredom. It was only half eleven but she felt like she had seen sitting this bored in Niall's house for hours. It was already proving to be an extremely uneventful Friday night.   
Or maybe it was just that she was being especially picky. She wouldn't admit that tho, wouldn't admit that she was having an off day. (She also wouldn't admit it had anything to do with the fact that she hadn't heard from or seen Harry since they fucked).   
"We could go to Zee's?"   
Effy sighed. She knew Niall was just trying but she hated that fucking club. There was always an especially large amount of teenage girls with fake ids getting too fucked up too fast and being just so bloody obnoxious. Effy thought that if she went there in this mood she would murder all of them. What she really wanted to do was just get high as fuck with just her friends and no one else around. But she also somewhat wanted to be away from her friends because she knew one of them, eventually, would bring up Harry, and that just wasn't something she cared to think about. 

So they had fucked. So what he left before she woke up and never said a word to her since? So what?  
Effy couldn't even count the number of times she had done that, that she had been the one sneaking away undetected. Harry wasn't anyone to her besides a hookup (in both senses). So she bought drugs from him and they fucked once, and he didn't care to come back around, so fucking what?  
So it was strange to her, because most of the time (all of the them actually) plenty of guys wanted to fuck her, and even after they did they always wanted to fuck her again. She was used to being the one to play them and fuck with them, shag them and sneak away. Effy could have her pick of any bloke she wanted, and she knew it. But Harry was different. Effy wasn't sure what part bothered her more. The fact that he made her feel the way she imagined the many blokes pinning after he must feel or the fact that because he hadn't bothered to be interested again she found herself wanting him more?  
She thought she understood then, how Zayn felt. She thought maybe she could just go get high and fuck Zayn again and just pretend it was Harry. She had done that the first night Harry was at Niall's, but she doubted that could work again, not after she had actually fucked Harry. She wasn't sure anything could come close to that. She ignored that thought and decided she just wanted to get away.  
"Let's go," she said finally, causing Niall to look at her like she had six heads.  
"Um, where..?" He asked confused, lighting a cigarette.   
"I don't fucking know. Out," She said slipping her leather jacket back on. "Just us. I just want to like walk or something. Ok?"  
Niall nodded in agreement, sensing something was up but not daring to ask. Effy walked over to kitchen and grabbed a bottle of vodka. She took a small pill out of her pocket and swallowed it with a shot, before deciding to dry swallow another. When she got back into the other room Niall was already half way out the front door, mouthing an "ah" at getting an answer to what she was doing.  
They stepped out into the refreshingly mild air. The weather had been all over the place lately, one day freezing, the next in the 50s. They walked to a nearby park, taking shots and not doing much talking on the way. When they got there, Effy was already feeling the effects of the pills and the alcohol. Niall got on a swing, and Effy thought she heard him talking, but she wasn't paying attention. She layed on the ground and looked up at the stars, but all she saw were green eyes pouring into hers. She smiled at this, and she thought it might have just been her high, but she swore she saw so much better when green eyes were in her view. 

 

Harry woke up to utter confusion and a growling in his stomach. He felt around for his phone and opened it to a series of missed calls and texts, that he ignored. He suddenly became more awake at the realization that he was pretty sure he slept straight through two days. Harry sat up an swung his legs off the bed, stopping there to rub his head. Yes, Harry remembered his old life so much more clearly now. Being awake for days at a time, and then sleeping for even more. He couldn't tell if he had missed it but didn't care to further the question because he was so fucking hungry that it just didn't matter. It was one in the morning, so he wasn't expecting to walk out of the bathroom to find Alex sitting at the kitchen table. Harry sighed as Alex looked up and locked his tired eyes on him, because he knew the lecture was coming. He nodded at him and went into the cabinet, grabbing the first box of cereal his hands could grab and the largest bowl they owned. He sat down and poured his milk and began eating, waiting for Alex to say something.   
"She was here."  
"What?" Harry asked quickly in between bites, his mind completely focused on how fucking good the cereal was and not at all wondering what Alex could have meant.  
"Gemma."  
Harry stopped chewing instantly, almost choking because fucking shit he had completely forgotten he was supposed to meet her. He just stared, wide eyed, not fully wanting to know what had happened.   
"Do you even remember when you came home, Harry?" Harry pretended to not notice the tone Alex gave him. He knew there would be a lecture.   
Alex looked at him, like he was waiting for him to answer, but Harry couldn't form words around the massive knot in his stomach and twisted, tangled thoughts in his head.   
"So I supposed then you don't remember trying to climb through my bedroom window at 6 in the morning, completely and utterly fucked, on God knows what," Alex started. "And since you've been sleeping since then, I'll just assume you were still using."  
Harry sighed. "Yes, okay? I used. One fucking time. Can we not-"  
"Don't you fucking dare, Harry," Alex interrupted him. "Don't fucking tell me one time, I know how much was gone from what I cut, I know how much you had, Harry. I also remember the last fucking time you said it would only be once. Do you not remember the fucking promise you made me? Or does that all mean nothing to you now, because fucking hell Harry I'm not doing that all again."  
Alex stood up, pacing around the kitchen and leaning down hard against the counter.   
Harry knew he should have apologized, should've said he was sorry and promised it would stop. But he was angry. Alex, of all people, should be able to understand. He needed this. He needed the escape.   
"It's really none of your fucking business what I do tho, is it?"   
Alex turned to face him, cheeks turning red. "You are FUCKING kidding me, right?"  
Harry just kept his same expression, still not awake enough to get that mad.   
"Harry, I was the fucking one who found you last time, I had to see you pale as fuck, dying. I fucking watched as you stopped breathing! Don't fucking tell me it's none of my fucking business, because you MADE it my business!" He was full on yelling now, cheeks flushed, wild limbs pulling at his dark hair.   
"What happened with Gemma," he asked calmy. Alex looked at him like he was crazy.   
"My sister," Harry began again, slowly. "You said she was here, why? What happened?"  
Alex sighed with a scoff at the realization that yes, Harry was just going to change the subject. And really, he should have seen it coming.   
"She kept calling. You left your phone in here and she kept calling and sending you all these texts, while you were sleeping and I thought it might have been important, about your mum or something. So I texted her back and asked what was wrong, said you were sleeping and she called,"  
Harry could tell how annoyed Alex was, but he wasn't going to apologize. He just wanted to know Gemma was alright.   
"So," Alex began again after realizing Harry wasn't giving in. "So she came over here offering to suck me off to get some smack."  
Harry's eyes went wide and his mouth opened, but Alex began again, putting a hand up to him to make him stop.  
"But I obviously said no. She told me about your little arrangement, which would explain why so much has gone missing, by the way, thanks for telling me. So I gave it to her and she left and that was yesterday."  
Harry sighed pointedly and rubbed his hands over his face. "How much."  
"What?"  
"How much did you fucking let her take off with."   
"Half a gram. I know it's your sister, Harry, but addicts are addicts. You can't go fucking around letting them have whatever they want for nothing, or we're never gonna get that fucking money back. You know that."  
And Harry pretended that Gemma wasn't an addict, and pretended that Alex wasn't implying how much money he still owed him and he ignored it all and got in the shower. He felt like he could just crawl up in a ball and sit under the scalding hot water and just scream and cry. But he didn't. He stood under the slightly on the hot side stream of water, blank look, just standing there until his fingers were pruney and water was turning cold. He got out and got dressed with the same blank expression. He knew he should go back to sleep, get up early and go see his mum since he'd fucked off all week, but he just layed in his bed restlessly, same thought going around his mind on a never ending loop. Gemma's an addict.   
Almost forty-five minutes had gone by and Harry decided to get up. His mind wasn't going to let him sleep and he needed a distraction. A beautiful, blue eyed distraction.

Effy struggled to get her eyes to focus enough to find her phone. She caught sight of it and found what looked like a text from Harry. She wondered if she was imagining it, because she thought just a few minutes ago she even contemplated shagging Niall just to forget that she was so hung up on Harry. She brought the phone closer to her face and confirmed, for what her eye sight was worth, that it was from Harry. If she wasn't quite so fucked, she probably would have got nervous, twisting butterflies. But high on pills and brave on liquid courage, she dialed the number.  
A raspy voice met her and she couldn't hide the smile.  
"Effy?"  
"That's me."  
"Want to see you."  
"So I guess you must be high again and need a shag."  
"What? No, Effy, I just want to see you."   
Effy pretended she didn't hear desperation.   
"Need to."  
Definite desperation. So she ignored that he sounded like he meant it.   
"I'm out Harry."  
"Please"  
"I'm rather fucked, don't want you taking advantage." She didn't think he would, she was just trying to get a reaction out of him though she wasn't sure why. She also wasn't sure why she felt she needed the reassurance that that wouldn't happen.  
"What? I..I would never do that Effy"  
And her head started spinning.   
"Harry."  
"Yea?"  
"Fuckin hell. Fuck it. Just get to Niall's, yea?" She hung up before he could respond and stumbled over to where Niall was hanging upside down on the monkey bars.   
"Your boyfriend finally called you back then?"  
"What?" She choked out a startled laugh.  
"You've been in a pissy mood all week since you shagged him you wanker. Suddenly you're all smiles after a mysterious phone call."She couldn't hide her widening smirk. "Piss off ,Ni." She smacked the top of his head lightly. "Come on then, he's coming back to yours."  
They walked back hand in hand, laughing and talking and Effy was glad that if she had to have a miserable wanker for a best mate, that it was Niall. 

Harry got to Niall's twenty minutes later. Effy was laying on the floor, still totally out of it. Harry walked in, and she sat up, head swimmy and wide smile present.   
"Hey" Harry said to both of them. Effy wasn't sure why just the sound of his bloody voice instantly turned her on.   
"Hey yourself," she slurred.   
Harry stood in the doorway, awkwardly, not knowing what he should do next. Effy got up and made her way towards him, stopping in front of him.   
"So are you like gonna totally piss off again if we fuck?'  
Harry looked down at her confused, and then sorry. "I wasn't, no. I won't. Promise." He gave a weak smile, but Effy was too fucked up to read into it. She slumped into him, connecting their lips and wondered if it was even possible to be that turned on.   
"At least go downstairs you fucking wankers. I don't need to be hearing all your sex noises while I try to sleep this off," Niall called as he stumbled into his bedroom.   
Niall's basement was furnished, but small, so they never really hungout down there. There was barely enough room for a couch in between the tv stand and table. Effy found herself straddled on top of a much more submissive Harry. Her tongue swirled circles around his and Harry thought underneath the taste of vodka, she tasted like heaven. He had been too high last time to pay attention to little things about Effy. Like how she liked moan into his mouth, ever so slightly as she pressed herself tighter against him. And how her fingers ended up in his hair so smoothly.   
Harry stopped and looked back at her, waiting to see what she wanted to do next. He had fucked girls before, obviously. But this whole situation was different. He had fucked her while he was tweaking and he was positive he wasn't concerned with much at the time. He wanted to make sure she wanted this, that she was okay with it. Harry was always a quiet, layed back guy. He would never stalk up to someone at a club and start grinding them and initiate random sex (unless he was high). So he sat back, and let Effy do what she wanted, and then he slowly followed along. Harry found he was mesmerized by her eyes, the piercing icy blue that they were, and how they seemed to simultaneously see directly into his soul and tell a story of their own, which left him feeling both exposed and intrigued. 

Her hips began rubbing into his more forcefully and Harry could feel his cock growing in his pants. She kissed him more forcefully, hands running up and down his back, and Harry kissed back equally as hard, his large hands landing on her ass. She undid his belt, peering up at him with those eyes that haunted him and he helped lift her shirt over her head. They stared at each other before they both pounced back in to hard, wet kisses. He rolled them down so he was laying over her on the small couch, and took her pants off, before unzipping his own. Their lips met again and soon he was inside of her, feeling himself become getting more and more up as he watched her come undone beneath him. Harry wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he found himself feeling something a whole lot like a really massive crush towards this girl. He got her settled on Niall's couch, with a glass of water on the near table. He stood over the couch and looked down at her one last time before leaving. Harry realized that he didn't care about shagging her, that wasn't what he liked about spending time with Effy. He liked her attitude, how she made everything seem lighter. He decided he didn't know and made him way back to the flat, feeling a lot less stressed out then before. 

 

Harry and Effy had spent the last 11 days seeing each other. They hung out, and smoked some spliff, walked around. They went to eat together, and sat next to each other at Niall's and snogged. They started holding hands without realizing they even were. They even watched a movie together at Harry's, and watched the whole movie without stopping to kiss, or fuck. They just really enjoyed being around each other. Neither one of them realized it since they spent so much time trying to hide who they really were, but they were both extremely similar. Effy didn't care too much to look into her newly blooming relationship with Harry until Liam had asked.   
"We're just like hanging out, Liam. I'm not with him," was what she had told him.   
"We're not anything, we're just hanging out," was what she had told Niall after the numerous "I told you so's."  
Harry had went on supplying his sister, convincing his flatmate he wasn't still using, and visiting his mum with a bullshit story how he had been sick, and was able to ignore how it all ate away at him when he saw Effy. He wasn't sure, but he swore it was something in her eyes, that they sucked him into a whole different world where nothing else would matter. And yea, sure it helped that they smoked spliff, or got wasted, or did MDMA, or fucked, but Harry swore he didn't care. He swore it was just the girl, that he would be okay with every shitty thing in his life as long as he was with her.   
And Effy felt the same way. She hated to admit that she had actually developed feelings for someone, and she also blamed it on his eyes. There was something so captivating about them, and when mixed with his smile, god. Harry Styles was by far the most charming, desirable bloke she had ever met.   
Zayn had found out and became increasingly less present in the group, and Effy would have maybe actually cared if she was able to look at something other than Harry Styles. She would never, ever admit it, even to herself, but in the back of her mind, way back in the dark somewhere, she heard a faint voice telling her that this is what love is like. But she ignored that completely because if she were capable of loving at all, she would never fall in love with Harry Styles.   
So two weeks later when Harry accidentally says "I think I like fucking love you" while they're laying on the floor of his flat, wasted and heads swimming with a bottle of rum and post orgasm highs, Effy pretends to ignore that her mouth had breathed back "I fucking love you too."

She didn't mean to fall in love. She was always sure she would never get attached to anyone. And she thought maybe she was wrong, maybe it wasn't love she was feeling, until her mum had actually commented on it.   
"So are we ever gonna get to meet the lad?" Her mum had asked with a smile. "Harry, is it?"  
Effy couldn't even pretend to hide her smile at his name alone. She didn't even realize that she had been talking about Harry to her family, without even realizing it( and she ignored that that meant it was love). "Yea. Dunno mum, eventually." She would always keep saying.   
She almost felt like if she brought him around to meet anyone that it would suddenly become real, become plastered and stuck in a frame with no room to breathe, until one of them either suffocated or shattered the frame to escape.   
So Effy wasn't particularly happy when she agreed to go out with Liam and Harry showed up to surprise her and get a shag in. However, of course Liam caught sight of them talking and went over and practically demanded an introduction. And Harry had been his usual charming self (tho it helped that he was high) and Liam had loved him (although he didn't know he was a druge dealer) and Effy pretended a part of her wasn't smiling at the sight of them all together. 

Effy got home and layed on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She thought about her life, all of it, how she had become so used to being so unhappy and shutting everyone out for so long, as long as she could remember actually. And then Harry came along and it was impossible for her to not fall for him, almost like some sort of cosmic force made the whole thing happen, and she had no way around it. Or maybe she just told herself that to act like she had no choice. Sure, she had a choice. She could choose to not love Harry, but it wouldn't work. His eyes had stole her sight and his smile won her heart from that first night, and now his very being was sewn into her veins. Everywhere she looked was Harry. A ridiculous shirt he had worn, a place he had talked about, a spot they have snogged or fucked. And maybe Effy always thought she didn't deserve to be happy, but now she found herself smiling almost constantly, because she was almost constantly with Harry and she liked it. She liked feeling whole again, even if half of what filled her was someone else's pieces. Maybe Harry Styles was just a distraction, a temporary thing and he would be gone soon and she'd go back to her old life and old ways, and have to fix herself, having had a taste of what happiness is. She wasn't sure, but then Harry texted her "I love you so much" and she didn't care again. 

Harry was walking down the street to meet Effy when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He was almost positive it was her, as they had become a constant part of each other, always together. It seemed like they had been together or at least known each other for years, when it had only been a few weeks really. He found himself thinking everything had turned around since he met her. Gemma had stopped asking him for smack, said she was gonna take a break from it and get a real job and he was so, so happy. She said she payed back everything she owed and had gone a weekend without it already, and pretty much came off completely. Any doubt Harry had was erased by Effy's reassuring words and her tongue in his mouth and then around his cock. And his mum was doing better, her eyes were looking brighter again, or maybe it was the hearts in his own eyes that made it seem that way. But he was there, talking about Effy and his eyes lit up and his mum noticed and she was so happy for him, said he deserved to find someone who makes him happy. And he was so totally sure that's what Effy did for him. So when Harry took his phone out of his pocket and saw it was Alex calling, he didn't think much of it. They were back on speaking terms since Harry stopped doing meth (and starting doing Effy).   
"Alex, wassup then?"  
"Harry, where are you?"  
"Uh, walking to meet Ef, why?"  
"Your uh, your sister's here."  
"What? Why?"  
"She um.."  
"Is everything alright?" Harry asked as he stopped walking and started becoming worried.   
"Well, quite frankly no, Haz. You need to get here."  
Harry hung up and all but ran back to the flat. He wasn't sure what to expect. Was Gemma using again? Was it Mum? Oh fucking christ.   
What Harry wasn't expecting was to walk into the flat to find Gemma, a bleeding, crying mess, on his couch snorting something off of his coffee table. 

 

"What the FUCK," Harry huffed towards Alex. "I fucking told you she was clean, I told you everything, why in the fuck would you give her that!" Harry was yelling, his mind completely spinning, trying to figure out how in the fuck this was happening.   
"Harry-"  
"No! Fucking- shit. What the fuck even happened?"  
Harry sat at the kitchen table leaning back in the chair with an unreadable expression, looking at his sister in the other room. He heard Alex telling him what happened. He heard him say that she quit her job as a waitress and spent all the money she had made on smack and couldn't pay her dealer. He heard how she had tried to fuck him for some but he had said no, that he needed the money this time. He ignored thinking there was a previous time it had worked and he heard Alex say she had tried to fuck him anyway to distract him and steal some, just enough to get her by. He heard how he had caught her, blatantly obviously, and had beat the shit out of her. How he had made her suck his dick of starting him up. How he had then gotten high and slapped her around some more. How Gemma had to leave with nothing still, and couldn't go after anyone else to try looking like that, because who would want to fuck her while she was bleeding. Harry heard how she had went to Alex, a crying mess, asking if Harry was there and saying good because she didn't want him to know. She just needed a hit and she would so, totally do whatever she had to to pay him back. And he heard Alex saying he just sold the heroin they had and how he still had some meth he hadn't sold, but they hadn't met with their manufacturer yet, but that wasn't any good reason why Harry was watching his sister get high on the one thing he knew too well, knew too much about (and Harry swore he didn't even care that he wasn't allowed to do that). He heard Alex saying she pretty much begged him into saying he had it, heard how she had cried and he was an only child and didn't know how to deal with girls crying, especially bleeding fucked up looking ones. He heard him say that he had turned around to get her some water and a towel to clean herself up, and called Harry to come, and when he came back she had taken the bag. He heard how Gemma hadn't even looked up and just said I'll pay you back I fucking swear and proceeded to use it, as Harry walked into the flat. He had heard all of it. He heard Alex saying over and over he was sorry, how she must have seen where they kept the drugs last time because he didn't even know she knew where to find it or he so wouldn't have left her alone. He heard Alex say it would all be okay, and that's what caused Harry to break his gaze on his sister to look at Alex.   
"Nothing is fucking okay," he said before walking over to Gemma.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry and Effy had gotten closer and closer, and it was almost as if they were dating, without all the expectations and labels. They hung out, snogged the shit out of each other every chance they got, exchanged I love yous, and continued fucking. Everything seemed to be going quite well for them. Effy had been a lot less uptight and a lot more patient, especially with her family. Her friends, who had become Harry's friends as well,(seeing as they're inseparable) had become quite supportive of the relationship (not that they had any choice) and welcomed Harry into their little family (except for Zayn who secretly wanted him dead but not because Effy was happy, and it wasn't like she was ever his to begin with). If you asked them, they wouldn't say they had a relationship like most people do. They act like a couple, but they wouldn't dare say that's what they are, both of them keeping separate reasons for that. Harry, afraid that if and said it out loud he would scare Effy away, like a deer and Effy, afraid that it would all suddenly become real and the easy going, good time, honeymoon phase would fizzle out, and the aftermath would just be too intense. 

The truth is, everything about their relationship was intense. From the way they stare at each other to the way they fuck, it was always turned up to the highest notches. Even the first times they admitted their feelings to one another; it was never just "I love you" it was "I fucking love the shit out of you." In a way, they set the bar so high for themselves that they trapped themselves in a tower, afraid that if they tried to get back down to the ground they'd lose each other. And if they realized any of these things were going on under the surface they chose to ignore them. After all, they were happy living the way they were and everyone else was too. 

Harry seemed to be doing exceptionally well. His new found friends were there for him, inviting him along, being the real friends he always longed for in college, not some charity invitation (although he did occasionally wonder if being invited because you're someone's boyfriend counted as a form of charity). They all seemed to genuinely like his company and they only sometimes asked him to supply them, and they always paid, even if not right away. To anyone looking in on their little world from the outside, Harry and Effy had everything going in their favor; anyone would take a look and say "wow, look at those crazy kids in love." Harry, especially, played up this facade seamlessly. Considering his sister was a full blown drug addict, his mum had gotten cancer in another spot (colon) and the man that was supposed to be his father was moving to Spain with some whore he knocked up, Harry thought he was doing great. He didn't tell a single soul about anything that was happening in his real life. It was almost as if he was aware that the second the words left his lips everything would have to change. Once people knew about it, he wouldn't be to kept pretending nothing was wrong. Instead, he chose to focus on the life he knew wasn't real. 

He was happy with Effy, it wasn't that. He did love her and they did have a lot of laughs and fun, but Harry continued to feel like something was missing. They never talked about shit, they just ran, together. If Effy was upset over something she didn't talk to him about it, she called him up and they'd get monumentally fucked up and fuck a few times. If Harry was upset, they'd fuck and then get high and then fuck again. He supposed that he could talk to her about shit, if anyone it should be her, but then that would crack the facade and things would start to get real. They were living willingly through rose colored glasses, and each other, and maybe they both felt it wasn't "normal" to not talk about issues ever, because it wasn't really. But neither of them had had a set guideline to show them what normal was and they were too emersed in the false reality where everything was great to care to break out of it. Harry just felt like maybe it would be nice to be able to have someone to go to and say "Holy shit my life is a mess," and just be able to let it all out and have them be reassuring, and maybe hug him or kiss him, sweetly not intently. And Harry had considered trying that, but he was sure Effy would only suggest getting fucked up and fucking because that's all the two of them knew. They had both been running from reality and crashed into each other, merging and overlapping into the being they are now, that lives in an alter reality. Harry wasn't sure if talking about the issues in his life would help make him feel better to get it out, or if it would make it that much more painstakingly real. And maybe he was worried again about getting pity. People treat you different when you have a fucked up story, he had learned that first hand all his life. It's one thing to say your dad's cheating on your mum and running off with some young bitch, it's another to say your mum also has cancer. The first one gets a "yea, I hear you" and some type of similar situation (because everyone in the world is just fucked up these days, Harry thought), but the last part always left sorry smiles and hands on his shoulder saying I'm so sorry, and fake smiles offering fake promises. Harry was beginning to see that everything in life is just fake.

And Harry wasn't mad at his mum for being sick, not at all. Of course he wished she wasn't, for her, so she could be healthy and do things and not spend all her days in a hospital. Thinking about the way she was forced to live made Harry feel physically weak and sick. It wasn't right, and his mum of all fucking people, didn't deserve it. She was so good and so kind and caring, and she just really fucking didn't. And now that Harry was a bit older (a very small bit in time, but he would say a lot more mentally) he understood that he didn't wish it was his dad instead anymore. It wouldn't have made it any better to feel guilty over being angry at someone who was dying.   
Dying.  
Harry had become so used to the thought of his mum having cancer that it rarely ever made him shudder anymore, like when she was first diagnosed. He used to not be able to even say it, because it was a death sentence. But his mum had gone into remission before, and she'd survived this long and done good, and so many people do make it through having cancer. Being around the environment and knowing first hand made it so much easier for him to become desensitized to the idea. Sure, she could die, but she was doing good, she'll just continue doing good. Harry didn't think about the long term, or the future, or the what next. If he was honest, he never fully comprehended the extent of his mum's condition. The doctor could tell him the results and he knows he should have an idea of what they mean by now but he really doesn't. And Harry could blame that on the fact that every time he's in that hospital with his mum, doctor talking to him, filling him in, Harry nods along like he's listening, but all he's able to hear is a loud ringing in his ears that seems to stop and start with the doctor's words. 

But Harry had never gotten himself prepared for his mum dying. He had prepared himself, like a bloody expert, to expect things to go wrong. He talked himself into thinking he could go see her, or even get a call from the doctor saying things were looking bad, things got worse. They found something somewhere else, it had happened before and here she is. He wasn't sure he would be able to handle any talk about her actual death. Harry guessed that the ringing in his ears would set him in a trance through the entire thing. 

But Harry would resent even thinking about that, so he just didn't. He was happy. His mum was alive, his sister was alive, and that's all he had. He would ignore the thoughts pounding in his brain, screaming that they could both legitimately die at any given moment by getting high on drugs and higher on Effy. And Harry really did love her, like really fucking love her, but he would be lying if he said he didn't feel like something was missing. 

Alex had finally gotten off his case about the drugs and things were back to normal, mostly because Harry had resorted to being completely fake around him, complete with jokes and signature smirk. But thats all it was, fake. When he was alone, just him and his thoughts, Harry was nothing close to okay. But he kept it hidden from everything and everyone and threw himself head first into Effy and that had so far been enough to get him by, just barely. 

But right now Alex isn't here, and Harry is stressed as fuck and he wants to get high. He wants the kind of high that he's only ever been able to find in one thing. So he sneaks into the cabinet, watching the door like a hawk, and when he finally decides it's safe, he takes it and runs into his room. 

Harry stood there looking at the bag for a good ten minutes. He finally convinced himself that he was nowhere near getting bad again last time, he was just blowing off some steam when Alex overreacted, and that was exactly what he needed, to blow off a lot of fucking steam.   
So he took the meth and snorted it and waited for himself to calm down. Instead, he found himself a paranoid mess, sitting anxiously on his bed, staring out the window waiting to spot Alex, because he just knew he was going to show up and catch him, high as fuck. He was so into doing that, that he almost missed Effy showing up until she stood under his window and yelled up to him.   
"People watching, eh?" She asked with a smile. Harry panicked. He wasn't sure why exactly, it's not like Effy of all people would care that was high, it was just that someone was going to know, and right then with his brain frying he couldn't remember that that wasn't the initial issue. All too soon he heard a knock on the door.   
"Harry?"  
He froze.   
"Harry what the fuck, you just saw I was coming up."  
Effy.  
It's just Effy, he told himself, his shoulders relaxing slightly and a sigh escaped his lips.   
But wait. He tensed up again at the thought that maybe someone was using Effy as a ploy to get in, to catch him and put his full exposed body on display for all the world to see.  
"Jesus Harry, open the fucking door."  
He checked out the window once more, and then made his way cautiously over to the door, quickly unlocking it and pulling her in, before slamming it shut and locking both locks.   
"What the fuck Harry, what's going on?"  
She looked at him, nervously twitching about, checking all around, rubbing his nose, hands over his face. But when she looked in his eyes, she knew. She never had to look past his eyes to know if anything was going on. Harry's eyes were always so alive. Effy would describe them they way that Harry described his mum's eyes; they told something, they had a life of their own. So when she saw the muted green and dilated pupils she knew instantly he was high.   
"Couldn't wait for me, could you" She said with a smirk, taking his hand and leading him into his bedroom.  
"So what've you got for us then?"  
Harry panicked when she stopped in front of his nightstand, bag of meth half full on top of it. But Effy just looked at it questioningly.   
"What is it?" She asked, picking it up. "Blow?" Harry's mind couldn't keep up with the situation.   
"Crystal, actually."  
Effy just nodded her head and sat down on the bed, still holding the bag.   
"So are you gonna like, show me how to do this right?"   
Harry stared at her, wide eyed. He wanted to say no. He wanted to rip the bag from her hands and throw it away, and keep her as far away from it as possible. But this was Effy, and Effy was just Effy. She was always calm, cool and collected and Harry was so high he took that as reassurance that it was okay. 

So they stayed locked in his bedroom, finishing the bag, and fucking, and when Alex got back he heard them in there and stayed out of the way, but some voice of reason in the back of Harry's mind told him it was only a very short matter of time until Alex found out what was missing and came after him.  
Harry thought about it, thought of what he could say. He could lie, and say he sold it. Say he sold it to Niall, or any of them. Or Effy. But somehow he just knew Alex would be able to tell. 

"Let's like fucking get out of here." He was still high as fuck and his mind was racing with possibilities.   
"Where do you wanna take me Harry Styles?" She looked up at him, eyes dazed but still shining and radiant, teeth peaking out from behind her smile and Harry was pretty sure she was definitely the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. And he wanted to kiss her soft lips so badly. He wanted to bite them, and pull on them and make them bleed so he could see the contrast of the blood against her bright blue eyes against her porcelain skin. He wanted to rip her clothes off and snog the shit out of her, blood and all, all over his bed. He wanted to touch her, and feel the electricity race between them and shoot out of their fingertips. He wanted to throw her against the wall and fuck the absolute shit out of her. And so that's what he did, and Harry forgot where he wanted to go and why he thought he should. 

Harry woke up to an empty bed. He sat up and looked around and saw Effy's bag still on the floor. He made his way out of his bedroom just as Effy made hers out of the bathroom.   
"Okay?"  
She smiled weakly. Harry had almost forgotten what they had been up so late doing.(He wondered how much time had gone by exactly, but he also didn't really care.) He almost forgot what it was like for him the first time he did it (he had thrown up so much that he had felt like his entire set of organs was going to come up). He got her a large glass of water and went back to make some tea. His stomach was a knotted, reeling mess but he had dealt with it enough times to know how it worked, but Effy didn't. So he tried to think of the right thing to say. Normal Harry, wanted to apologize and wanted to make sure she was okay and ask what she thought of it and say they would never do it again whether or not she said it was terrible. The other Harry, the one who was always high and wanted to be when he wasn't, wanted to ignore the entire thing and go get high again. That Harry wanted Effy to get high with him, though there was no real logic as to why. He knew that he really wouldn't have to decide what to do though, because knowing Effy (and he so did) she wouldn't have anything to say about it.   
He brought two cups of tea into the couch and sat down next to her. And being Effy, she could clearly sense how awkward he felt it was, because she looked at Harry like he was a bloody open book,seeing completely through him all the time and so she decided to speak. 

"Was fun. I think I need a bit of time to recharge before I go all back into that again though." Harry just watched her as she finished her sentence and took a sip of tea. Cool as shit all the time. Like nothing ever phased her. Harry was jealous almost, until he remembered he had a cover like that too, just not around her. He frowned slightly wondering why he was able to be one hundred percent open with her (well mostly), and she was still trying to stay out of his sight.   
Harry was upset, because (like always) he assumed it was his fault, like he wasn't enough to be real with it. Maybe he hadn't given her enough reason to, or maybe he hadn't made her feel like she could. Harry sighed, he was always fucking things up.   
Effy had fallen asleep, and Harry found himself realizing Alex would be back soon, most likely already knowing about the meth. And it stressed him out so he went and did some more. And maybe Harry knew really that the meth wouldn't help him calm down, he knew that it would make him even more paranoid, but he ignored that. So he paced around his bedroom and quickly took out a gym bag, stuffing a few pieces of clothing and two bottles of alcohol into it. He ran out into the kitchen and grabbed his phone and charger and went back into the cabinet under the sink. Harry took another two bags of crystal meth, before deciding to take one more. What's the difference, he thought, because Alex was going to know anyway. He stuffed them in the pocket of his jeans and went to wake Effy.  
"Ef." He nudged her gently, but purposefully, taking a minute to take in her peaceful beauty before remembering they had to fucking go.   
At the sight of her eyes open, he pulled her up, slipped her jacket on her and pulled her out of the flat before she could even comprehend what was happening.   
Harry had led them, almost running, down into the center of town a few blocks away. In the rush of people wandering about he suddenly realized he had no plan. And then he realized Alex could be here, could see them before he could even be able to spot him first.   
"Harry?" Effy broke him out of his panic with a hand on his forearm. "What the fuck are we doing here?"  
And Harry couldn't help but find the whole thing so fucking funny. So he laughed and she looked confused at him until he kissed her, hard and she realized he was high and they were in the middle of the street but he didn't care.   
"Let's go to like a motel." Harry's eyes were wild, scanning her face over and over and Effy just smiled in agreement, mischief laced in her lips and Harry just had to taste that. So he kissed her again and then grabbed her hand and they went running down the road. Harry wasn't sure where the nearest motel was, was half way aware he could take two seconds to pull his phone out and get directions, but he just kept running until he spotted one. 

They checked in, and sat on the bed and Harry was so high on meth and on the idea that they were running from something that he didn't even know what he wanted to do now that they were actually there. So they just sat there, and Harry wasn't even sure how much time had gone by, but his high was fading way too fast then and so he figured it had been awhile. And Effy noticed the change in his mood, and if she noticed the shaking in his hands she ignored it just like he did. They put on the telly, and Effy clicked through absentmindedly, checking her phone occasionally. Harry just sat there, trying but failing to focus on something other than getting high. He was lost in a day dream, a nightmare actually, that Alex was going to show up and find them, and Harry wasn't even sure why that was quite so intimidating to him. What would Alex do, really? Make him stop, like he had before? Tell his mum, who was too sick to do shit about herself? Call the cops? Check him into rehab? None of it was likely, yet still Harry felt like Alex finding out was the one thing he had to stop from happening. He realized that was impossible now, so he settled on coming up with a plan to keep moving around, so as to not be found, just like in the movies when people ran from the law. And Harry thought for a second that maybe, just maybe, he had been doing a bit too much crank lately because none of this was really logical, or necessary. But he was still so caught up in it that he didn't even realize he had taken one of the bags out and was holding it in his hands.   
"Want to do some, then?" Effy broke him out of his trance once again and he stared up at her, eyes wide and connected their lips forcefully. He pulled back, and stared at her, still jumpy and eyes bulging and he reached into the zippered part of his bag. Harry pulled something out and fished around in the bag again, cursing occasionally, until he revealed a lighter. He was in a manic state then, and tried to take the meth and place it in the pipe as quickly as he could manage.   
"Wait til you try it this way," he said in between shaking fingers flicking the lighter. "It's so good, Ef. Like so..."  
The flame lit and Harry inhaled the drug and lolled his head back as a wave of relief slipped over him. Everything suddenly felt like it was moving slower, like the entire world had stopped as he breathed in the smoke, and once it hit the insides of his lungs everything sped up again, ten times faster than normal as the remnants of the drugs bounced around through his body. Harry ignored the fact that until now he couldn't recall the last time he had felt this way, and if he thought it was too much, that he was getting in over his head again, he ignored that too. He brought the pipe up to his mouth again. He didn't care.

And he ignored the fact that he knew introducing smoking glass to Effy was a terrible idea. He knew that it was, and he knew that she could get addicted and they would both be fucked, but he ignored that, because at that moment he was high as shit and she was beautiful and her body was like a treasure, glistening gold and he just had to have it. 

And Harry wasn't aware of much else. He wasn't sure when the high had faded. He wasn't sure if Effy's even had. He wasn't sure when he had snorted a line, but his nose was still freshly burning so he assumed it was within the past few minutes. He wasn't sure if he had checked his phone or if Alex had called. He wasn't sure if Gemma had. He wasn't even sure how much time had gone by when he heard Effy speak.   
"I should get back. Mum wants to like go over some shit for the holiday." Harry nodded. He didn't want to think about the holidays, it always upset him. He supposed this year would be exceptionally worse. They stepped outside and Harry discovered the sun to be long gone as they walked, still souring high until they got to Effy's block. They kissed goodbye, for several minutes, and Harry was left alone and tweaking, which he knew always got him into trouble. 

 

"Why in the bloody fuck won't you answer me," Effy huffed under her breath as she checked her phone again. Effy was cold, walking to get to Harry's flat in a hurry. She had crashed, hard, and learned coming down from a speed high wasn't as easy as anything else she had done. Her stomach was in knots and her head was pounding so hard she nearly puked. She wanted another hit, another line just something, and she was completely ignoring the fact that she knew damn well she could just go to Niall's and smoke some spliff or take some pills that would knock her out and allow her to sleep through this. But she assumed Harry was feeling the same way and would be using again soon anyway, so she figured why not do it with him and have some more of the most incredible sex of her life. 

Effy didn't care much about drugs. She did them, yea, and she liked to be high occasionally (or more often than not) but she didn't care about them, not really. She never felt hooked, hopeless without a high, desperate and willing to do anything to get more. She never felt a sense of searching for the same feeling she got when she was high, nothing. And Effy didn't understand addicts, couldn't understand how it was like that for them. And she wasn't sure if she should be thankful that she wasn't one but she just really wished Harry would answer his damned cell phone. 

And as she approached his flat, Effy swore to herself over and over that she didn't walk all the way there, still trying Harry's phone, out of desperation. She didn't need to go, didn't need to get high. It had nothing to do with the drugs, she thought. It was Harry. Harry made Effy feel more alive and more high than any substance ever could, and Effy supposed if she was capable of becoming addicted to anything at all it would be to Harry. 

She got to the flat and knocked on the door, a bit too hard and just a bit too loud. She was still feeling the effects of the meth, just not the high. She still felt jumpy and wiry, her hands still met with the door a bit too intently. At one point she was finding it hard to tell if the pounding she heard was someone's footsteps behind her or if it was just her damned headache. The door finally opened, after what Effy swore was ages, and she all but ran inside.   
"Uh, hey." It was Alex, she realized, and nodded an awkward hello. She glanced around and saw the rest of the flat was empty, and Harry's bedroom door was open revealing that he wasn't in there either.  
"Where's Harry?" The crank still running through her veins made her twitchy and shaking, ever so slightly, but Alex had all but became an expert at spotting the signs.   
"Were you with him today," Alex sighed out, not really asking even as he could tell the answer. Effy nodded quickly and he sat down at the kitchen table.   
"So he was using again." Alex looked down at the table, rubbing his hands over his face in a display of him having no fucking clue what he was going to do.  
"So you, you don't know where he is?" Effy asked, rubbing at her head which seemed the be pounding even more.  
Alex motioned for her to take a seat. "Was it your first time using?"  
She looked up at him, with what looked like first wondering how he could tell, and then wondering why he was asking.   
"The crash. It's pretty obvious when you've been around it enough." He had a sad smile.  
"Yea well that's fucking great for you. Congrats on being able to see it." Effy hadn't remembered when she got so annoyed, but she couldn't fucking help it. Where the fuck was Harry anyway? And why the fuck did he leave her to deal with this alone?  
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Alex sigh loudly.   
"What?" She asked, too fucking annoyed to deal with whatever it was he was trying to do.  
"I don't know why he started using again. It was..Last time was so bad. I just, I can't do that again," Alex started, looking at his hands. "I just, shit, I can't."  
Effy was confused. "What are you on about?"  
Alex looked up at her, in something close to awe. "He didn't tell you." It wasn't a question, it was a realization and Alex huffed a sad laugh at it.   
"Effy, he. He was addicted to it, really fucking badly. Nearly got us both killed by stealing a shitload of it, more than once, and then..Then he almost died himself. He overdosed and I found him, literally just in fucking time. Like in seconds of time. He stopped breathing in the fucking ambulance, I was right there. I watched it, I watched him.." Alex stopped. Effy just continued listening with a blank look. "It was really bad. Even before that, like he totally changed. He was so obsessed with it, he would lock it up, his stash, and go back to check on it like every hour almost. It wasn't always like that, but I mean it got to that point. He couldn't even function if he didn't have like days worth in advance. He'd like totally freak and lose it, it was like this sick obsession, and he was always tweakin and it just fucked with him more. It was..it was awful."  
"He didn't even want to stop after he woke up after he..well after he died technically. Eventually, once he actually came all the way off and detoxed, because he had to, he was so dehydrated he had to stay in the hospital a few days to make sure all his stats were back up, but eventually he agreed. He fucking cried and begged me and made me promise to keep him away from it, and I did. I fucking spent all my time making sure it was no where near him. I took over all the business in that area, everything on my own, and eventually stopped selling it at all." Alex took a breath. "And that wasn't fucking easy on its own. But it was away and he still had a hard time. Sometimes he would lose it and just be shaking and freaking out and I'd have to be there physically with him to calm him down. Like, you don't understand Effy. I did everything I fucking could to get him better, everything. And I thought it was all okay now, he was doing so good I didn't think he'd even care if he found out I was holding again, it was only supposed to be temporary. There was this up in demand and I just thought..And then he does some out of fucking nowhere last month or whatever and he told me things were fine. He swore it was all under control and that he stopped no problem. And now.."

Effy couldn't understand. Harry was an addict? A meth addict? It didn't make any sense. How could he not have told her? She didn't know what to say to Alex so what she said was "you must have really cared about him to do all that," but what she meant was "you did all that and I totally fucked it up by going along with it." It wasn't like Effy to feel like that, to feel so down over something that wasn't her fault, not really. And she thought maybe it was the drug still pumping through her but she felt like she needed to fix it. She needed to save Harry, because she needed him. She finally admitted to herself that without Harry Styles, she would be completely lost. 

So she decided she really fucking needed to talk to Liam, like even called him right after she left Alex and Harry's and made sure he was home.   
"I just really fucking need to talk to you Li," was all she could manage without breaking into tears. She thought about going to Niall, but Liam would know what to do. Whatever his reaction might be, Liam would know how to save Harry. And Liam wouldn't let up on it after knowing the whole story, not if he knew Effy had done it with Harry. Liam would need to know it was all okay. And that's what Effy needed too.

 

Harry walked into the flat, closing the front door too hard. It was only a matter of seconds before Alex showed up in the hallway, staring at him. His lip was bleeding, his hair was a disheveled mess, his eye and cheek red as if he'd been hit. His shirt, which was grey had spots of blood on it and his knuckles were bruised and bleeding as well. Harry took a look at Alex's expression and let out a curt, manic laugh as he brushed fingers through his hair.   
"So," he started, still smirking. "You know I took the crank."  
Alex took a careful step towards him. "Yea, Harry, I know." He watched for his expression and took another step. "But that's alright. Can I look at your hand? It's bleeding pretty bad."  
Harry looked down at his hand and laughed again. "Don't worry mate, should've seen him." Harry began to walk past Alex, who had resorted to leaning back against the wall and watching him. Harry leaned over the sink with his head down.   
"Alright..?" Alex asked carefully.  
Harry turned around and let out a low snicker. He lifted up his shirt to reveal a large incision on his side.   
"Harry what happened"  
"I happened," he laughed again. Alex hated the sound of his manic, tweaked laugh. "Did it myself."  
"Why Harry?"  
"Because I wanted to wreck something."  
"What did you do?"  
"Smashed a bloke's car outside of some bar." He laughed, this time a harder puff of harsh laughter escaping his bloody lip. "Went in and brought him his whippers after the windshield shattered."  
"Harry.."  
"He didn't really take too kindly to that. So I smashed his fucking head against the bar. Got a fucked up lip but I got the rest of his shots too so I'd say I rather did good."  
"Harry, let's get you cleaned up, okay?"  
"You don't want to talk? 'm shocked."  
"Of course I want to talk, but not right now. Let's just get you cleaned up, yea?"  
"Well of course you would. I don't want to hear it Alex I'm not a bloody child anymore I can take care of myself."  
"By surrounding yourself with people who don't know? Harry that's n-"  
"What are you on about?"  
"I-"  
"How do you fucking know who the fuck knows what? You don't know shit."  
Alex stayed quiet.   
"You fucking talked to them? Who the fuck did you talk to Alex?"  
Alex couldn't come up with an answer fast enough.  
"Effy?" His look gave it away though. "You fucking told Effy? What the fu- you had no right! She's my- it's my- it's fucking not your concern anymore!"  
Alex couldn't do anything but watch as Harry stomped around the kitchen. "I have to fucking talk to her." And he was out the door before Alex could even call after him. 

Effy felt like it was taking 30 times the normal amount of time to get back to her house. Her mind was racing and her stomach was constricting. It was all too much. Maybe she overreacted. Maybe telling Liam was a terrible mistake she was minutes away from making. She just couldn't think over the pounding in her fucking head, she decided. She nearly jumped two feet when her phone vibrated. Harry.

"Where the fuck are you."  
"Harry? What's-"  
"I know you know. Where the fuck are you."  
"I'm almost home, I was -"  
"So you know now? You know all about how fucked up my life is."  
"Harry-"  
"You too then?" Harry snickered. "You can both just piss the fuck off then, yea?"  
"Har-"  
"I thought you would fucking be different, Ef. You were supposed to be the one fucking person who was on my side."  
"Harry, I am on your side. I, I fucking love you so much I just don't want to lose you," she finally admitted out loud but the only one had heard her was the dial tone ringing in her ear. 

Harry stormed around town, wanting to cry but not letting himself. He went into a dingy bar, where he found he still got looks from people, so he went into the bathroom deciding to try and clean himself up a little. He looked at his reflection. If Harry had never been an addict before, he would have looked at his reflection and said he couldn't recognize it. But he had been down this road before, and he had seen a worse looking face in the mirror so he stopped looking into his dead eyes and got a paper towel and started cleaning the blood off his lips. Harry felt like he had been in the bathroom for hours by the time he finally got the majority of the blood off of himself. He lip was a bit swollen, and his eye had started to turn into the discolored bruises of a blackeye. Harry wasn't sure why exactly, but he suddenly found himself so completely overwhelmed that he decided if he didn't do a line or two he was going to stay in that bathroom all night and cry and scream and pound his head against the tiles or walk out into traffic. So he pulled himself into a stall and closed the door not bothering the lock it. It was a rather seedy bar and no one had come into the bathroom since he'd been there (and he ignored the very high possibility that it was because of his appearance that they stayed away) so is his hurry he didn't think it necessary to seal the lock. He got out the bag and cut two thin lines, because he decided he didn't find much comfort in overdosing, not right then anyway. He stared at the drugs for what seemed like too long and just as he lifted his head back up after inhaling the first line, the stall door was pushed open, and the second thing his eyes met with were unmatchable blue ones.


	6. Chapter 6

"Louis Tomlinson you need to get out more often. And you definitely need to get laid."  
Louis sat in the passenger seat and rolled his eyes. He had been annoyed all week, having had an exceptionally large array of pissy clients all week, and today had been the final straw. He actually had this bloke make him stop, midday through the piece (a traditional style pin up sailor on his forearm) yelling, claiming it wasn't what he wanted and went over to the APPRENTICE asking him to fix it. Louis wanted to scream and punch him out and finish the tattoo so all it was was a large "FUCK YOU" in bold lettering, so dark it couldn't be covered and so harshly done it would tear the skin of this prick and cause it to scar. But Louis was a professional. Or at least that's what he kept telling himself. His parents wanted him to be a surgeon (of all fucking things!) and all Louis wanted to do was draw, so naturally they were pissed as all fuck when after two weeks in uni Louis dropped out and spent two intense months getting a portfolio together, barely leaving his room for anything at all. He went around to nearly 20 different tattoo shops until he got to Bloody Saul's. Saul had said he saw some real potential in Louis, and wasn't turned away by his rather obsessively compulsive demeanor (which Louis would blame entirely on his upbringing, saying his parents taught him how to plan out a schedule and manage his time before they taught him how to walk.) So he had gotten his chance and spent nearly two bloody years as an apprentice (shop bitch, really) and finally was taught the art of tattooing. Louis wasn't entirely sure why he had turned to tattooing when he knew, really, he was talented enough to get into anything e wanted that had to do with art. Art had always been his escape, from his overbearing family and once he came out to his classmates, from the lack of social life and mates. Louis was a rather private, quiet guy and preferred to stay back, unnoticed. But since he started tattooing he found a new found confidence that he never felt before. He was good at it, great even, and he knew it. He had a steady line of clients lined up and he found people enjoyed his personality, they would tell him it was a nice change to actually meet someone who was professional and wasn't some dirty, foul mouthed druggie who was tatted up head to toe, and had hence decided to get into tattooing. And Louis liked that he was being noticed for what he _wanted _to be noticed for.__

And that was how he met Nick Grimshaw, through Bloody Saul's. He had gone in one night, drunk and saying it was too fucking cold to wait outside for his ride. Louis was closing shop that night alone and allowed him to stay while he finished cleaning up, and stay he did. Nick had spent nearly two hours in the shop, looking through Louis' portfolio and asking him about every piece and every client, and was amazed that Louis could in fact recall them. And Nick kept asking him questions and Louis thought he was the most abrasive bloke he'd ever met, but Nick came back the next night asking Louis to design him a tattoo and Louis found himself spending hours with him. That was months ago and Louis still had yet to tattoo Nick, but they become great friends, even though Louis often wondered why. 

And now Nick had taken him to some awful gay bar to try and get him laid to make up for his shitty day and Louis was so annoyed at the absolute disaster it had been that he really just wanted to go home and lay in bed with some wine and his cat, Dusty. But Nick had taken them so bloody far away that now they were stuck in this ridiculous traffic and Louis REALLY had to fucking piss. So he made Nick take off on the next turn, after they finally inched up to it. And there were so many bloody houses and not a single place of business open, so they kept driving, further and further into this part of town.  
"Where the fuck are you taking us," Louis exclaimed. They had ended up in a rather seedy looking area and Louis was not about to die or get mugged just to take a piss.  
"Oh just stop right here, this is fine." He barely let Nick stop the car before he ran out the door into one of the most dingy, dirty, tiny bars he had ever seen. He ran in, not even letting himself consider how many diseases he might have gotten from touching the door handle alone and ran into the back and into the bathroom. He had his belt already undone, and was working on his zipper when he found the only urinal in there to be out of order.  
"Oh bloody shit." He huffed, turning towards the tiny, dirty stall. He opened the door and burst in, dick already out and in hands and found himself met with a curly set of locks. Louis was so caught off guard, he nearly jumped back, but actually he didn't move. Or bother to put his dick away. 

The boy looked up with dazed eyes and Louis took note of the drugs he was doing but found he couldn't look away from the boy's face. He had a blackeye and dried blood on his lip but that wasn't what Louis couldn't look away from. He had such nice bone structure, and perfectly pale skin and - shit. Louis suddenly realized not only was he staring, he was still holding his penis out just inches away from the boys face. 

A pair of green eyes looked from it, to Louis' face, one eyebrow raised and smirk etched into pale perfection.  
"Hey," was all the boy said but Louis swore it was spoken so suggestively he would have been instantly hard if he wasn't in this situation. He stood there, feeling more awkward then he ever had before in his life, and struggled with finding words.  
"Here," the curly haired boy stood up, making himself alarmingly close to Louis who felt intimidated by the boy's surprising height. " 's all yours." He brushed up against the side of Louis to squeeze his way out of the tiny stall and Louis just stood there trying to convince himself that he hadn't just felt the boys's dick rub against his thigh, until he remembered his nearly bursting bladder. 

He thought to himself how utterly embarrassing this entire night had been for him, and exited the stall with a small chuckle. It was instantly silenced as he found the boy still in the bathroom, leaning against the wall with one leg bent up on it, cigarette hanging from his mouth.  
"Uh- were, were you just standing here listening to me take a piss?" And then he cursed himself because _GOD _Louis, _that's _what you chose to say? You walked in on _him _and shoved your dick in his face and that's what you said.______  
"I mean, uh, sorry for-"  
"I'm Harry." The boy said, ignoring him and stepping closer.  
"Um, Louis."  
"Right then, Louis." Harry's eyes ran up and down Louis's body. "Doesn't really seem like your type of place."  
That much was obvious. Louis was wearing a white button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing one forearm covered in ink, and one with a few sporadic little pieces he had done on himself, a pair of light washed skinny jeans and a pair of boots. It was his usual outfit, what he wore to work most of the time, unless he was especially hungover and couldn't be bothered with buttons. And yea, he had tattoos, but he was so clean cut that he knew he looked out of place here. The few people he had glanced at on his run in could pass as homeless. 

He looked at Harry and wondered why he was there. He didn't look like the people out there, he didn't look shabby and dirty and homeless. He just looked tired, and maybe his hair was a little greasy and his face was fucked up so he'd clearly been fighting but Louis thought his eyes didn't belong to someone who belonged there.  
"Is it yours?" he asked him.  
Harry smirked again, lighting the cigarette.  
"Dunno. Suppose it could be."  
Louis nodded his head slightly, watching the way Harry blew out smoke, which he decided was so beautiful that he wished he had his sketchbook with him right then, so he could fade into the back and watch Harry without disturbing him and capture his essence. (Louis ignored the thought that he had done that before with a boy he had a crush on in college, before he came out. He ignored how the boy had found out, claimed Louis was stalking him and told everyone, causing Louis to lock himself in his bedroom for weeks, doing nothing but crying and looking at the drawings and sketches of his first love. But he ignored that because this was a good moment and if he couldn't capture it he at least wasn't going to ruin it.)  
"Well then," Louis broke himself out of his trance, clapping his hands together. "I suppose I should get going." Which was the last thing on earth he wanted to do. "Sorry, again, about like walking in on you." That was a lie too, because really this had been the only upside to his entire week.  
Harry smiled that bright, mischievous looking smile. "See you around Louis."

And Louis walked out of the bathroom, out of the bar and got into his Nick's car (who he had forgotten was even there) without looking back, even once, to get another look at the boy and he was proud of himself. It's not every day you see someone so bloody good looking they could quite literally be an angel. Louis decided that's what Harry was. A beautiful, fallen angel and he sat there, stupidly, thinking off all the drawings of Harry he was going to do when he got back to his flat. He was so caught up in his own head that he didn't even hear Nick until he tapped his shoulder.  
"What?"  
"For the millionth time, what in the mother of fuck were you doing in there for that bloody long?"  
Louis didn't think it had been that long. He thought it was only a few minutes, at the most. He mentally smacked himself for thinking maybe he had been staring at Harry for too long. But then he remembered Nick was an absolute drama queen.  
"Well? Haven't you got something to say for yourself Mr. Tomlinson. Making me wait out here would we could 'die or get shot at' quote unquote."  
And Louis smiled and simply said "I think I just fell in love," and realized it wasn't even an exaggeration. 

~

Harry left the bar so high he could barely think. In fact, he had stopped trying to. So he just walked, having no idea where he even was, tweaked out brain not allowing eyes to focus. So he just wandered, like a zombie, occasionally having a pair of blue eyes jump into his mind. He was used to that, because he always thought of blue eyes, high or sober. However, he stopped right in his tracks when he realized the eyes he was picturing weren't Effy's. 

Harry thought that maybe he was just high. Maybe he had just done too much crystal that day, which really wasn't untrue. He thought maybe that entire bathroom incident didn't even happen, maybe he just imagined it. But that didn't make it any better, or answer why he couldn't stop thinking about Louis' eyes and how he wanted to get him naked and suck his dick (which he could now picture, vividly) and run his tongue over every single one of his tattoos. 

Harry laughed then, realizing yes, he definitely must have done too many drugs today that he was willing to go into extreme mental detail of fucking a _guy _, just to fuck.__  
Sure, crank makes you horny but he had never taken to wanting to fuck a guy, not really. Harry might have been attracted to guys before, in college mostly when he was young, but he'd never been with a guy. He wasn't gay.  
"I'm not _gay _." He laughed again as an elderly woman gave him a strange look. He found himself wishing he was 13 again, when he could talk to his big sister about these things and she would listen and make sense of it all for him. He laughed a cold laugh to himself when he thought that if he called Gemma right now she'd probably be just as high as he was.__

__He supposed he should go back to his flat. He should really talk to Alex. But he didn't want to talk to him because he had no business telling Effy any of that. It wasn't his story to tell.  
 _EFFY. ___  
What was she going to think of him now? Would she be the one giving him fake smiles and sympathy blowjobs just because he had it rough? People had treated him like he was so much worse off then the rest of the world his entire life and he couldn't bare it anymore. He wasn't going to go home to her and find out, he wasn't going to risk it. So he stormed off in the complete opposite direction, not giving a single thought or care where he would end up.

__Harry thought he would rather sleep on the fucking street corner behind that dumpster then go back home and be treated like A. Someone who was going to break at any given second or B. Someone who needed sympathy and taking care of._ _

__Harry thought about Louis again. He thought about how posh looking, clean cut Louis hadn't even judged Harry liked that. Even after finding him in a seedy bathroom snorting crank off a highly unsanitary toilet, bruises and cuts masking his face, Louis had talked to him like one normal human being to another.Harry liked that. He liked how Louis had looked at him, like he was _someone. _And if Harry thought that he was just high as hell and not thinking clearly he ignored it._ _ __

__He found himself wishing he had gotten Louis' number. He didn't worry too much though, because for some proper strange reason he felt like he would be seeing Louis again, just not in that part of town. Suddenly Harry decided he didn't want to be alone anymore, so he did something that part of him thought might have been a bit fucked up. He got out his phone and made his eyes focus on finding Niall's number.  
It rang for the longest three rings in all of time and Harry was becoming desperate.  
"Harry?"  
"Wassup then Niall?"  
"Um, you are aware your girlfriend has been trying to call you for hours?"  
Harry sighed. "Are you with her?"  
"No, she's home. Think she might have fallen asleep actually. She stopped texting back." Harry was relieved, a little too relieved.  
"Mind if I come round to yours?"  
Harry smiled at the fact that Niall didn't even hesitate. "Yea, sure."  
Maybe Effy hadn't told anyone else yet. So maybe Harry could have a least one more night of regular laughs with regular friends before they started pittying him. 

Having been reminded of the situation yet again, he decided to call Alex. Voicemail.  
 _Yea it's me but I'm apparently busy so wait for the thing. ___

__Hearing his voice angered Harry instantly. _BEEP. _  
"I dont...I don't know why in the fuck you would have made it your business to tell her anything, but telling her about my, my past and all my SHIT it's just..I thought you cared about my mum..you're always..you know that's a fucking sensitive subject and I..I didn't want her - anyone- to..you wouldn't understand." He struggled to remember why he was calling. "I'm just calling to let you know I'm alive and all that so you don't go calling the cops and all when I don't come back to the flat tonight."_ _ __

__~_ _

__Harry woke up to an unfamiliar room, struggling to remember where he was. He sat up and peered around. He had been here before. He swung his long legs over the side of the couch and stood up unsteady, legs betraying him. He didn't have to check his phone to know he had probably slept through an entire day, or something similar; the legs were always the first telltale sign._ _

__

"Ah, good bloody evening to you." Harry turned around to see a figure approaching. "Nice of you to come to my party and decide to stay in my sitting room for days."  
It was Nick Grimshaw and Harry was seriously struggling to remember why he was here.  
"Uh, sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck, somewhat feeling awkward but mostly feeling hungry as all hell.  
"Eh, 's fine really. My parents are off in Spain for the month, mostly only were glad I'm still 'round to house-sit." He chuckled. " _House-sit _. How bloody stupid is that? Like anyone in this part of town is going to pick this particular house, to do what? But hey, it's a great excuse to throw a party or twenty, eh?"__  
"Uh, yea, suppose."  
"So, Mr. Styles, I'm guessing you haven't heard the warning to not get high on your own supply and go to house parties?"  
"Uh, yea, sorry." Harry was weak and hungry and dehydrated and _annoyed _and it was too much to have to keep listening to this when he had just woken up.__  
He stood up looking around to make sure he had all his belongings.  
"I better get going."  
"You better not bother. Got the next round starting in an hour or two, had a pole going with my mate whether or not you'd be up before it. Guess who just won twenty quid?"  
NIck had a stupidly cheesy smile, Harry decided.  
"Uh, I think I should like shower and all that." Harry said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it should have been. He was still wearing the shirt he had gotten blood on and was guessing he still looked a right mess.  
"Right, very well then. You should come back tho, yea? You're a proper good time Styles." 

__Harry walked home and hoped Alex wasn't there. It must have been his lucky day, because he got back to an empty flat. He realized it would probably be short lived and opted for eating half a box of cereal (because all they ever keep in the damned flat is cereal) and a quick shower and decided it better to go back to Nick's, still not wanting to be around Alex or Effy yet. He didn't even bother checking his phone, he just turned it off and slipped it into his pocket and ignored all the thoughts in his head that had anything to do with the things he might see if he turned it back on._ _

__And Harry wondered why he even was as angry as he was, thought maybe it was unjustified, but at that moment he didn't care. He didn't care about anything, really. He knew he should. He knew that he should care about how he hadn't checked on his mum, or how he'd been ignoring Gemma's calls, along with Effy's, but he didn't care. He wanted to get fucked up and not worry about it, and when he got back to Nick's that's exactly what he did._ _

__Two hours later, Harry was off his ass drunk. He was laughing along to some story that someone he didn't know was telling and was in need of another drink, so he made his way, stumbling through to the kitchen. He sat down at the table and decided to ask the figure in front of him to get him another drink. He heard a mumbled agreement and the figure turned towards him, beer in hand.  
"Harry?"  
Harry lifted his heavy head and made his eyes focus on the man's face. Even through his drunken gaze he thought he could recognize the blue of those eyes anywhere.  
"Louis?' Harry laughed to himself at how utterly impossible this was, because really what was the chance.  
"Yea. Um, how have - oh here. How have you been?" Louis asked him, handing him the beer that they both knew he really didn't need.  
Harry scoffed. "Been a bit better I suppose."  
Harry wondered though, if that was true. He could barely remember a day when he was happy, genuinely _happy _, and not high or faking it. How long had it been since he _was _better?____  
Thoughts of what Harry was trying to forget about went flashing through his head then, so he put the bottle of beer to his lips and finished it off.  
Harry decided that he hated drinking. It didn't help him much. Ever notice when a really down person drinks a lot they end up just being even more of a downer, having no filter in a thought process under the influence? Harry was down, more down then he'd gotten used to lately, and he had past the happy drunk phase and now it was starting to come back around. So he thought maybe he should stop downing the drinks like he was. 

__"Yea that might be for the best there mate."  
Harry looked up again, confused until he realized he had said that out loud, well something less coherent but following the same basic concept. He was totally trashed and he had a hard time remembering the last time he had drank so much, which made him wonder how he was able to still be doing so. And right then he wished he was sober because now Louis was touching his shoulder and touching his arm and pulling him off the chair and helping him walk (or basically fall into Louis and let him drag him) and taking him somewhere secret and private and Harry really wished he was coherent enough to touch Louis back. His back hit something soft and his eyes closed and his mind kept replaying Louis' fingers on his skin and his charming blue eyes staring back at him. _ _

__And when Harry woke up, on Nick's couch _again _, he wasn't even sure if any of that had really happened. He wasn't really sure WHAT happened, but he did know he had quite the massive headache and as he sat up he was met with a wave of nausea. Harry didn't like drinking because he hated getting hungover, which he found quite ironic considering the absolute hell of a toll that meth puts you through. He compared the two as he laid back down. Have a headache and be nauseous verses start coming down from your high enough to be hungry as all hell but have your stomach be in massive knots too large to allow the thought of food, maybe be nauseous depending, wake up with a headache from being dehydrated due to being asleep for a half a day or more, and that wasn't counting all the brain cells it stole and all the shit it did physically. Harry laughed to himself at how blatantly obvious it is how disgustingly wrong it is to do, and to be bitching about a tiny alcohol induced hangover seemed ridiculous coming from him. But there was nothing that could quite come close to comparing to a meth high, and Harry would know. (Though he would ignore that completely.)__ He was broken out of his thoughts as he heard voices approaching.  
"Well yes it was very nice of you to stay over to _watch me _do all the cleaning up. Cheers Tommo."__  
"Yea well I don't see any of your other mates over here helping you. And I _did _get everyone out, didn't I? Who _were _half those people anyway?"  
 _Louis. _Harry thought. He suddenly became increasingly aware of how awful he must look.______  
"If that's what your proud of doing then sorry, you did a rather shit job 'cos there's still some bloke asleep on my couch."  
Louis didn't say anything back to that and Harry wondered why his heart started beating a bit harder at the thought that maybe Louis hadn't wanted to kick him out. He thought that was a bit ridiculous though. He also thought he just stop eavesdropping and perhaps make himself known to them. 

He stood up and made his way into the kitchen, hovering awkwardly in the doorway until Nick turned around.  
"Morning Sunshine, we were just talking about you and your sleeping arrangement."  
"Didn't think you'd be up so early." And maybe Harry was looking too much into it but Louis was staring directly at him, like he saw right through him, and was ignoring that Nick had already greeted him, choosing the say something himself. Harry silenced those thoughts and forced out a response.  
"Yea," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry bout that, again. I'm gonna get going."  
He turned to walk away when Louis' voice met his ears, sounding alarmingly desperate.  
"Uh, wait! Well, Nick and I were just about to head out for some breakfast. I'm sure your hungry too?"  
Harry nodded cautiously, trying to hide the smirk that was forming.  
"Come along then, yea?"  
Louis' eyes met with his and appeared to be smiling so brightly that Harry couldn't hide his own smile anymore. "Yea," he said, wondering why this boy's eyes made him so giddy and, as he walked behind Louis and Nick, Harry found himself wondering why he couldn't stop watching the sway of his hips and curve of his arse.


	7. Chapter 7

"Elizabeth?"  
Effy woke up to a knock on her door and red puffy eyes, not the kind she was used to.  
"Go _away _Liam"__  
She huffed into her pillow, pressing her face further into it.  
"You've been locked in there for two days."  
And Effy would swear up and down that it was the drugs, it wasn't her. Or maybe it was Harry. Harry Styles and his eyes and his..meth. No, she thought. It was definitely the meth that was making her like this. She was just coming down still was all.  
"Just let me make you some tea then sis it'll help. You'll feel loads better after some famous Payne tea."  
Effy closed her eyes shut tight and willed Liam to give up and leave.  
"I'll just go fix us both some then. Be right back."

__Effy turned over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She sighed and checked her phone, just to check. A few texts from Niall (and none from Harry). Liam was right though, it had been nearly two days. After Harry's call she had gone with the intention of telling it all to Liam, asking him for advice. But as she got home she started to crash, like really crash not just come down from the high, and had slept for so long her body ached when she woke up. And being sober she ended up opting out on talking to Liam until she talked to Harry, which of course never happened._ _

__At first she understood, he was angry and high and he needed to cool down. She tried to walk through the timeline, allowing time she thought Harry had come down and crashed and was sleeping it off and calming down. But now it had been days and she was worried. She was worried about what he was doing (now that she knew he was a former meth addict who was using again) and if he was okay. Effy was in love with Harry, like so totally in love. The entire situation, hell the fact alone that she's in _love _at all, was so much to take in and comprehend.___ _

____So there she was, still sleeping still in bed all day, telling herself it was still the drugs and letting her mum and Liam think she was just feeling ill, all while she knew full well the problem, the thing that kept her up all night and made her _cry _was that she had fallen so hard in love and just now smashed into the ground. Reality had set in, like she knew it would, just harsher than she had thought and she just barely had enough time to even admit she really was in love with Harry. Effy wasn't even sure what she thought or what she was feeling, she just really wanted to talk to Harry, to hear his voice and know he was okay. She just wanted to go back to how things were when they were just having a laugh together.___ _ _ _

"Elizabeth? I've got the tea here."  
She got up with a sigh and met Liam at the door, leaving her bedroom to join him in the sitting room for the first time in days.  
She just wanted Harry alive, well and with her (always, she thought, because without him she can't find happiness); that was all. 

______~_ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry wasn't sure how he had ended up where he was. Not physically, but where he was in life. He wondered how he had managed to get himself into so many strange circumstances lately. He pulled his jacket around him tighter as he walked, harsh wind blowing directly into him. Harry supposed if someone would have told him he was going to meet Louis Tomlinson (and if the most unconventional of ways!) and that he would have ended up at a diner with him and Nick Grimshaw of all people, that Harry would laughed in their face. But there he had been just two hours earlier sitting in a booth across from Louis. Harry had felt rather awkward at first, seeing as he didn't even know either one of them, and considering he couldn't recall everything that had happened the night before. But Louis had made it anything but awkward and Harry found himself having a proper laugh with them, watching the way Nick and Louis interacted with each other and the way they included him in conversation as if they had all been mates for years. Harry had found it odd, Nick and Louis being so close. They didn't seem like two people who should _be _friends. Nick was loud and somewhat obnoxious, but funny nontheless, while Louis was more quiet, until it came to telling Nick to shut the fuck up, which was rather often. They were almost playful together, and Harry wondered briefly if they were more than just mates. Louis had rolled his eyes and said "Oi, Nick! 'S like you pay to socialize and not even eat the food" when Nick spent the first 32 minutes chatting up people who he apparently knew but hadn't seen around lately, and by the way Louis reacted Harry got the feeling that Nick knew everyone everywhere he went.___ _ _ _ _ _

________Harry recalled the first time he met Nick, at a party he had at his house a while back that Harry had sold drugs at. The party where he first met Effy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Shit. Effy. Fuck. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Harry almost felt bad as he was walking back to his flat. Thought that (as usual) he had fucked things up for everyone, upset all his mates and Effy and his mum and Alex and Gemma. He had just gone and fucked off and gotten massively shitfaced and hadn't even bothered to turn his phone on. He had talked and laughed and danced and met Louis. Harry almost forgot how shitty everything was when he spent time with Nick and Louis. Louis had eyes that shined and smiled and his actual smile was bright and contagious. There was something in his quiet reservation that intrigued Harry and made him want to know more, know the story behind the eyes.  
But where had he heard himself say that before?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Harry suddenly wanted to get high as fuck remembering what he would be walking into. Alex would freak, no doubt, and he was used to that and could handle it, but how would Effy react? Had Gemma gone to Alex for drugs again since he wasn't answering? What had he given her, or allowed her to take? And what had Effy been doing? Zayn? How was his mum? It killed Harry even more to know that she would smile at him with sad dying eyes and totally understand why he hadn't been 'round, and not even think that Harry had spent all that time getting high. Harry felt sick. Sick with guilt and regret and he wasn't even entirely sure why. He felt guilty going back to Effy and Alex and his mates. He felt as if he had betrayed them, as if he had had an affair (tho they still weren't officially labeled exclusive) even tho he was extremely aware that if any of them, Effy had. He wondered if he should care, about if she had fucked Zayn or not. But he didn't, not really. Harry found he was more concerned with what Alex and her had been doing. Had they been talking more? Had she wanted more crank while Harry was gone? And Harry wasn't sure why, but it bothered him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________He turned the corner and took a deep breath before turning the door to the flat. To his surprise, it was empty. He took his phone out of his jacket pocket and looked at the missed calls he had ignored. Alex. Alex. Alex. Effy. Alex. Gemma. Gemma. Alex. Alex. Alex..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He sighed and went to his phone book. He scrolled past Alex's name, deciding to call Gemma back first and check on her. _E, F, G ___  
He wondered how she was, if everything was okay. _H, I, J ___  
He felt bad, just fucking off like that. What Kind of brother does that? _K, L.. ___  
Harry wasn't sure why he had stopped but he swore his fingers had stopped to hover over Louis' number totally on their own.  
He glanced down at the name. He wondered why he smiled slightly, almost feeling a secret feeling pride at the fact that he had acquired the number.  
Jesus, Harry thought.  
What was happening? All he knew was he needed to get high as fuck. 

Harry emerged from his bedroom in a daze, the multiple pills he had taken settling into his mind and taking effect. He had decided he needed a duller high (not to mention he so, totally was not in any way _needing _to do meth) and thought it would make as a better reunion with everyone, as he supposed coming back after being M.I.A tweaking would surely lead to more problems. Just then, his phone rang.__  
He walked idly towards the sound until he found it laying on the kitchen counter.  
" 'lo?"  
"Oh, oh wow! You're alive!"  
Harry rolled his eyes. He could tell by the tone of Alex's voice that he was still pissed at him, but wasn't currently about to start yelling.  
"Unfortunately for you you're still stuck with me."  
"Where the fuck are you, Haz?"  
"Waiting for you to get home, babe."  
"Oh well fuck me, must be my lucky fuckin' day. 'm round the corner don't even think about sneaking out before I get there."  
Harry put the phone down and took a seat at the kitchen table. He knew the rest of his reunions wouldn't go so smoothly. 

"Gem?"  
"Yea."  
"Um, how are you? How've you..how've you been?"  
"Fine, yea."  
"Good, good.." Harry was reminded again just how far apart he and his sister were. They didn't know each other at all and it clearly showed.  
"Going to see Mum today?"  
 _Shit _Harry thought. He suddenly felt so, _so _guilty. He had to go see his mum. Right after he talked to Alex. Probably before he talked to Effy.____  
"Um..um, yea, yea Gem. In a bit. You?"  
"Probably in a bit, yea."  
"Cool..um. See you there then, maybe?"  
"Yea, sure Harry." 

______________________Harry supposed that this entire day was going to be a series of awkward situations after another._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________"Ah, you didn't leave then."  
"Hey."  
"So I just hope you're aware that you are going to tell me _everything _Harold."  
Harry sighed but a small smile crept onto his face. "I know."___ _ _ _

________________________~_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Oh come off it you damn wanker."  
Louis rolled his eyes. "On my way to _work _Nicholas. You know, the thing that some of us _have _to do."____  
"Yea whatever, how convenient for you! We're talking tonight, Tommo. We'll get some drinks in you and the truth will come out!"  
"Bye Nick"  
Louis hung up and got out of his car. Since the diner the morning before Nick had been insisting nonstop and Louis had just got to ask Harry out. Sure, Louis understood Nick was his best mate, and was supposed to want what's best for him but, _God _he didn't think Harry was gay. Especially after Nick told him about a party he had a while back when he had seen Harry show up and go off with some girl who had crashed the party.  
"Jesus, Nick. How could you even suggest me asking him out knowing he's _straight! _is what Louis had said. But Nick kept insisting that there was something about Harry that was into blokes. So then Louis resorted to saying he didn't even _want _to go out with Harry Styles. He was a drug addict, after all. Louis really couldn't care less about that, though he realized he probably should, but he needed to get Nick off his back before he (once again) became Big Mouth Grimshaw. So now Louis knew he would have to go out with Nick that night and probably get a little too pissed (because Nick would insist) and have to spend the rest of the day convincing himself that the two hours he spent with Harry Styles didn't make him fall even deeper in love with him.______

__________________________________And maybe it was true that Louis always fell too hard too fast, but he didn't care because all he could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss Harry's perfectly pale lips._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________So he went in and drew up a few sketches and waited for his first client of the day and tried to think about anything and everything that was not about Harry.  
And that was working fine (or so he lied to himself) until he got a fucking text from Nick saying _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________'Change of plans for tonight. Hope your up for it stud cos your man candy is joining us!'_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __

____________________________________And then all he could think about was how much he wanted to hurt Nick and how awkward and embarrassing the night was going to be._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________~_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Louis downed his sixth shot (at least he thought it was the sixth) and set the glass down hard on the table. There he was in a bar that was way too loud with his best mate and his newly found love interest who wasn't even into guys. He looked over with tipsy eyes and took in how beautiful Harry really was, but Louis thought some spark in his eyes had gone out. He looked sad, and Louis was almost drunk enough to get closer to him and ask what was wrong. Nick was somewhere a few feet over talking to someone he knew in college (of course) and Harry was looking at his phone, sadly.  
"Alright?" Louis cringed at the shrill drunken lace to his voice but forgot it completely when Harry looked up at him. He was drunker than he was letting on, at least Louis thought he must have been considering how pissed he was now himself.  
"Yea um, I'll be right back."  
And Louis watched Harry walk away and wished he could throw him up against the wall and kiss the absolute shit out of him. 

Harry got into the bathroom which to his relief was empty. He sighed hard and leaned his head against the wall, no amount of alcohol seeming to break through his mind. Effy had texted him again asking, _begging _him to just let her know he was okay. He really did feel bad but he still couldn't bring himself to talk to her, not yet. He sighed again and pulled out the bag of meth he had taken after his talk with Alex. He quickly snorted two rather big lines and made his way, slightly stumbling at the head rush, out of the stall. He looked at his reflection in the dingy bathroom mirror for too long, trying to find every single mark or flaw that made his brain the way it was and caused him to continuously fuck things up.__

Harry walked back over the table were Louis had just finished another drink and Nick was whispering intently in his ear over the music. Harry saw two shots of something on top of the bar and didn't think twice about taking and downing them, one straight after another. He joined his new friends at the table, wide smile on his face, and through the drunken eyes of Louis, the sadness in Harry's wasn't noticed.  
So they talked, mostly about nothing, and Harry wanted to dance and Louis agreed and Nick said he'd catch up and no one questioned it because that was just Nick. So they were out there in the middle of the bar, dancing stupidly to some song neither of them could recall and Louis was fucked up and had his guard down and Harry was fucked up and wanted to touch someone and watching Louis sway his hips like he was was making him feel oddly aroused.  
But Harry ignored that and just watched him and laughed along with him, and found he couldn't even recall why he had been so upset. And it wasn't the drugs and it wasn't the far too many shots they had all taken, it was Louis. Louis was the type of presence that Harry never had in his life. He was someone who just _made _things better, simple as that. And Harry wasn't sure how that was possible but he felt so good around Louis and Louis had kind, bright eyes like his mum's and he was caring and so easy to talk to and he had a better arse than half the girls Harry knew, and right then he didn't care.__

____He continued to watch Louis, watched him stumble over to Nick then to the bar, then back to Harry with another round. He watched Louis walk and talk and laugh. He noted how actually small Louis was, without being small. He was short, a lot shorter than Harry, but he didn't look _too _small and he wasn't extremely muscular but he wasn't skinny either, not like Harry. (Harry ignored the fact that maybe he wouldn't be quite as skinny if he wasn't a drug addict). And Louis had hips and an arse and thighs that were so much more feminine than Harry was used to seeing on a bloke and he liked it. He liked a lot of things about Louis. He liked his laugh, and the way he got so annoyed so fast. He liked the way he made the stubble on his face look clean cut. He liked his eyes, of course. He liked the way Louis made him feel. He talked to him like he was valuable, like Louis honestly cared what Harry thought and wanted him around, and wasn't just using him as a hookup or an escape. Harry knew that's what his relationship with Effy was, an escape, for both of them and he was okay with that up until he experienced the alternative. He didn't care if Louis was a guy or not because in the short amount of time he had spent with him he made Harry forget about everything else in his life and he had made him smile and laugh when he was fully sober; and Harry wasn't quite sure if Effy had even done that.___ _ _ _

______Harry watched Louis stumble into the bathroom and his legs started moving before he even realized what he was doing. He got another drink and swallowed it all as fast as he could before he made his way into the bathroom. Louis turned towards him from the sink and Harry saw his mouth moving but couldn't hear a single word. He stared at Louis and Louis stared back, neither of them making a sound or a movement. And then before either of them realized what was happening their lips were connecting. And Harry was too fucked up to be that coherent and Louis had drunken half his weight in tequila alone and it was hard to say if their minds had been aware of the situation but they were kissing. And then there were hands running down bodies and grabbing arses and dicks and there were tongues searching foreign lands. But more than anything there was a spark. An actual, literal spark between them that was so magnetic they couldn't pull away from each other if they wanted to (which they totally didn't)._ _ _ _ _ _


	8. Chapter 8

Effy woke up to a bang, a knock on her door. No, it was her window. She got up with sleepy eyes and pulled back her curtain to reveal a figure. She should've been mad, furious actually, but it was Harry and she melted at the mere sight of him.  
Harry, who had ignored her for days. Harry who she was in love with.  
Harry who was fueled by guilt and a meth high and a strong desire to reinforce his masculinity.   
Harry, who vaguely recalled getting off in a bar bathroom the night before.   
Harry who wasn't able to recall to who or what.   
A voice somewhere in the back of his mind shouted out "SELECTIVE MEMORY" but Harry silenced that. Sure, he was selecting to remember only a few parts of the night. And yea, he did remember a certain blue eyed tattoo artist with hands groping with desire and intent and a mouth sucking his dick. And yes he remembered how he had nearly cum from Harry's kisses and hands alone as he watched him go over the edge. He remembered the smirk of his face, as if he was proud of how quickly he managed to get Harry off. But he was choosing to ignore all that because he was high and he was drunk and Louis wasn't Louis then. Harry swore it meant nothing and made his way to Effy's nearly 9 hours later to finally talk, because he loved her and he was sorry and he _really _didn't care about Louis and his arse and his tongue. He really didn't.  
And when Effy let him in and they stood there and he smirked awkwardly knowing full well he should get down on his knees and apologize he didn't think about Louis, not even once. And when suddenly he and Effy were on her bed kissing hard and stripping clothes off, he didn't care about Louis' eyes. He focused on Effy, his girlfriend and her arse and her lips and her eyes, and he didn't, not even once, compare any of those things to Louis.  
~  
Louis woke up to Nick singing, horridly and exceptionally loud. He sat up and was met with a pounding in his head, which lead him to recall the previous night. He shouldn't have drank so much, he shouldn't have.. "Fucking shit." His mind rushed to flaky, blurry images of him and Harry in the bathroom. Of tongues and hands and dicks and cum and..fuckin' hell.   
"Would you mind fucking _not _doing that." Louis huffed as he met Nick in the kitchen.____  
"Ah, morning princess. Rough night?" And Louis looked up and saw Nick smirk at him and he knew that he knew.   
"Um..I.." And shit, Louis was always so bad at hiding things from people, and especially Nick who could always pick up on everything.  
"So it IS true!"   
Louis felt a million emotions go through his head and suddenly all settle into his stomach in a lump.   
"I'm gonna be sick."   
"So you DID shag him then! Aha!" Nick was smiling and clapping his hands together in such joy and Louis wasn't sure why he had to be best mates with someone who got so much enjoyment out of being right. "Wasn't sure if you'd even remember. You know Harry all but had to carry you out last night. Now I know why!"  
Louis couldn't even grasp what was happening. "Nick I didn't shag him. If you hadn't noticed I just had a bit too much to drink last night."  
It wasn't untrue. Louis wasn't even sure how he was physically able to ingest that much alcohol but he blamed it all on Nick anyway.   
Nick just scoffed and smirked that knowing look that Louis properly hated. "Yea sure mate, whatever you say."

_______Louis went into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. He stood there hovering over the sink with his head down as bits and pieces of the previous night came rushing into his memory.  
"What the fuck am I gonna do," he mumbled into his reflection with a sigh. He knew this was bad for him, getting involved with someone he knew wasn't into blokes, getting his hope up and giving him things to picture.   
But he decided he wanted to ignore it all and just take a nice hot shower.   
But as he stripped down he noticed little marks that weren't there the day before. Areas that were touched by large hands. Spots that had met with tongue and lips. Every inch of Louis reeked of Harry and if he happened the notice how the thought made him smile this un maskable smile he ignored it as he got into the shower.   
~_

____Harry left Effy's with sore limbs and a massive headache. He wandered into a corner store and bought a pack of Panadol, dry swallowing them as he waited at the bus stop. He took a seat in the back and told himself he wasn't doing anything wrong. He hadn't _fucked _Louis. Whatever that even was that had happened meant nothing. It was just a stupid, fucked up mistake, so there was no point even acknowledging it. Effy didn't ever have to know, no one did. In fact, Effy didn't even have to know Louis existed.___ _ _ _

______He closed his eyes and wondered just how in the fuck this was his life. He kept them shut tight, imagining a time when he was younger and everything wasn't so screwed up and he wasn't so fucking unhappy. He really wanted to see Louis. No, Effy, he corrected himself, _Effy. _But he couldn't even lie to himself that that was true. He had just come from seeing her and somehow he felt worse, this deep dark sinking, black hole type feeling that he had grown so used to but was still unable to explain. He wasn't depressed, he really wasn't, but he wasn't _okay _either. Harry supposed it wasn't too strange considering the circumstances of most of his life. But when he was with Louis it didn't seem so dark inside. Louis was such a bright light, such a shining source of energy, that it was contagious and it shown into all of Harry's darkness and he could _see _, really see and then he didn't feel so lost and hopeless. But fuck it, Harry just wanted to get high._______ _ _ _ _ _

____________He got off the bus and walked into the hospital, realizing he had meant to get flowers first. He groaned and cursed himself, and as he looked around him quickly he was met with a harsh wind to his face along with the realization it was winter and there were no flowers growing. Harry had almost forgotten about his mocking enemy and a dark hole inside of him turned into a pit in his stomach as he remembered he wasn't even sure how his mum was._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He held his breath all the way to her room. No Gemma, he noted. He walked in to his mum reading and seeing her in there never really got any easier._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________"Hey Mum."  
She smiled at him, bright and warming and loving as ever and set her book down.  
"Hi love."  
And Harry ignored the fact that he felt a lump in his throat and a massive desire to climb into the bed and nuzzle into his mum and let her hold him and run her fingers through his hair and whisper to him as he cried and cried until everything dark inside of him was gone.   
He ignored it and sat down in the chair and asked her how she'd been. He swallowed down lump after lump and apologized for not coming around. He promised he would make it up to her, thought of course she didn't care. He asked about Gemma, if she'd been there, and was relieved to hear she just was. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Harry sat there and talked with his mum and tried to forget about all of the bullshit. He tried to forget where they were and that she still had cancer and had seen another one of her friends die and how both her kids were junkies and it was probably starting to show. He tried to forget all of it, how he had let her down by not being around, how he had fucked things up with everyone in his life. He tried to forget that no matter how hard he tried to mask it, with fake smiles and drugs and company, that he was miserable._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________And that realization stayed as he left the hospital, and opted to walk the whole 30 something blocks back to the flat. It sat there in large bold letters, flashing neon realization in his fucked up mind as tears began to fall from his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________It stayed there, a permanent etch (like Louis' tattoos), as he was met with a harsh cold that stung his cheeks and Harry realized that maybe the reason he hated the mocking kiss of death that followed him around so much was that it reminded him that death was always there, a simple answer to every problem he had, that he was too coward to give in to._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Harry got back to the flat in a daze, one that was so strong he couldn't snap himself out of it. If he wanted to eat, or shower and get high, he didn't move. He couldn't. He sat there, on the sofa and sunk back into it. He stared at the dark screen of the tele and didn't even try to get the remote and turn it on.  
And that's exactly how Alex found him, three hours later when he came home. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________"Um..Haz?" He put his keys down and threw his coat off, eyes never leaving Harry's figure. "You okay?"  
But Harry didn't even flinch.   
Alex got closer and tried again. "Harry?"  
Memories of a time when he had walked in on Harry lifeless on his bedroom floor, just minutes before he stopped breathing came flooding through his mind in a panic and then Alex was on the sofa, alarmingly close to Harry, nudging his arm.   
"Harry." It was more forceful that time. But Harry didn't say anything. He breathed out a small breath and Alex was going to ask if he was alright but then Harry was clinging to his shirt and sobbing and shaking so hard that it was answer enough. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________~_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Harry woke up in his bed with the kind of headache that only comes around after crying for hours. He supposed he should get up and he supposed maybe he should shower or eat something. He thought maybe he should at least check the time. He knew he should probably go find Alex and give him some sort of apology and something like reassurance that he's really okay. But something came over Harry after he left the hospital, maybe even before that, he wasn't sure, but it hadn't left. The desire to do anything at all even the simplest task was completely gone. He didn't care about anything anymore almost as if he had just gone numb, and Harry wondered when it really happened. He thought he had made himself numb a long long time ago but was just realizing how untrue that really was. He had reached a place now, or maybe hit a bottom, that was so familiar but at the same time was new, like he was just now experiencing the full grunt of it. And he just couldn't give a single fuck about anything so he just layed there staring at the ceiling, mind running but also blank. If Harry Styles had been a ghost of his childhood self before, he was sure he was now someone different entirely._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________He heard his phone ring and had every intention of ignoring it but it continued to go off for what felt like ages so Harry decided he would at least see who it was. It might have been the longest phone call in the history of the world or maybe some greater force was intervening and wanted Harry to talk to this person. If Harry still believed in anything at all he probably would have went with that, but he was just so done with caring so he stopped thinking about it and just answered the phone.  
" 'Lo." It was the dullest, driest voice Harry had ever heard himself capable of making.   
"Hey, um, hi Harry." Louis' voice awoken something in Harry's brain, but not enough for any emotion to be attached. "How are you?"  
"Fine, you."   
"Um good, yea. Um are you like..I was just wondering if, if you're feeling up to it, if you'd be up to joining Nick and I tonight. He's got a gig DJing downtown. "   
Louis sounded so nervous and it was only the sound of his awkward tone that reminded Harry what they had done. But there was something laced in Louis' voice that was so close to hope that Harry heard himself agree before the rest of him caught up.  
"Ok um cool. So like Nick's all dragging me down there early with him but he's going on by like 12 so whenever you want to just come on down I can like text you the address." "Cool."  
"Right um..see you later then."   
"Yea guess so."   
"Bye Harry."  
"Bye Louis." _ _ _

____________~_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Louis spent the next four hours stressing out over the way Harry had treated him. Was he just going to act like nothing had happened? Was he supposed to act like that too? Maybe it was better tho. Harry wasn't gay, he was just fucked up. That was all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Or at least that's what he finally managed to convince himself of by the time he and Nick got to the club. It was loud and it was packed already and Louis sort of just wasn't in the mood. He was still feeling his hangover and made a solid promise to himself that no matter how awkward things got with Harry he wouldn't let himself get drunk. So he stood awkwardly and took out his phone to text Harry._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________'Hey we just got here so whenever you want to come its at Metra on Leicester Square'_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________~_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Harry sat on the bathroom floor for far too long (two hours) avoiding the world and everyone in it. For the past twenty two minutes he had Louis' text displayed on his phone and was just continuing to stare at it, deciding what he should do. He really didn't want to _do _anything at all.  
Harry wouldn't describe himself as weak, but despite his efforts to not be he was rather sensitive. That was part of the appeal of drugs to him, was that they masked things, they could hide feelings and emotions and Harry wouldn't have to feel them anymore. He was sick of feeling. For as long as he could remember the only things he felt were sadness, worry and loneliness.   
And so he met Alex and he started using and he started selling and he had things to focus on, distractions. He had made a life of his own but it wasn't really any less sad or lonely then his old life.  
And now he felt like everything was catching up to him. Time. Gravity. He wasn't sure but reality had found him and he couldn't hide anymore and now Harry couldn't figure out what to do next. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Harry wasn't even sure why it was happening, 'why now?' he thought. But he couldn't find the answer. As far as he was concerned there wasn't one. He wondered what his mum would say. But then he was reminded of the most real part of his life and he snapped._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He got up grabbing his phone and stormed into his bedroom and was soon stood in front of a large array of drugs. Harry had never learned how to deal with things and getting high was really the only escape he had ever known. And right then he was so fucking sick of feeling that he took as much as he could until he was completely numb again, and then he put on his coat and left the flat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________~_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________Louis kept telling himself that he wasn't _watching _the entrance to the club, he was just casually glancing every few seconds. Nick had gone off to go talk to someone and Louis had eventually decided that looking at the door would be doing more good than staring at his phone, because really his text to Harry didn't warrant a response. He just wanted to see him, and then he could read what Harry was thinking about what they had done.  
And yes, Louis prepared himself for the worst, for if Harry would say it was a horrid mistake and he never wanted to see him again. And he thought maybe Harry wouldn't even want to talk about it, maybe he was confused, maybe he was never with a guy before. But surely he had to want to say _something _about it, right?  
He sighed and decided he would go find Nick and wish him good luck and then go to the bathroom (but totally not to check his hair for the thirtieth time since he'd arrived at the club). _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________Harry walked in a complete and utter daze, the multiple pills he had dry swallowed successfully blocking all his emotions like a goalie, but in the process blocking a lot of his thought process as well. Or maybe that was due to the mysterious substance he had smoked right after, when he already been a bit too high to pay attention to what it was. So he wasn't sure and he didn't care. As long as he wasn't thinking and feeling anymore he was fine.  
He didn't _know _what was wrong with him and thinking about that just made it worse so by the time he got to the club he had convinced himself to just stop thinking about everything that wasn't happening right in front of him. It was proving to not be so hard, considering he was massively fucked up.  
Harry walked in and gazed around at the crowds of people, yelling over music, dancing, sweating. His eyes got caught on the bright neon pink lights of the bar and he found himself drawn to it. And when the bartender asked him what he wanted he mumbled out a jack and coke and drank it down probably too fast, and took the empty glass with him as he wandered away from the spot.   
There was flashing lights and voices yelling and music and Harry couldn't tell what to focus on. He stood in the middle of it all just glancing around, not even remembering why he was there. He thought he heard his name being called but he couldn't focus enough to find the source.   
"Harry! Over here!"  
Where was it coming from? He looked at faces and mouths and none of them seemed the match the voice.   
"Harry!" And it wasn't until Louis was directly next to him, touching his arm and slightly turning him that Harry remembered that was why he was there.   
"Louis"  
Harry stared intently into Louis' eyes, thinking he could get lost in them. He decided he would like that; Louis' eyes were bright and warm and Harry was so sick of being lost in cold darkness. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________________"Alright?"  
Louis could tell Harry was fucked up and wondered how he had managed that when Louis had been watching the door the whole time.   
"What time did you get here?"  
He couldn't read the expression on Harry's face.   
"Come on, let's go sit, yea?" He took a hold of Harry's arm and lead him over to the empty table. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________The drink Harry had had was taking effect and mixing around with the cocktail of drugs he already had in him and he was finding it quite hard to do much of anything. He let Louis guide him and when they got in front of the seat, Harry sat down with too much force causing him to fall over a bit. Louis watched with worried blue eyes as he pulled his body back up straight and slumped down, leaning his head back against the seat and keeping his eyes shut tight.  
"Harry? Are you alright?"  
"A lot better now, yea," Harry mumbled, eyes still shut tight.   
Louis fidgeted awkwardly for a few minutes as Harry stayed in that same position, not speaking or doing anything other than laying there with a stupid looking fucked up smile on his perfect face. If Louis wasn't so concerned he was pretty sure he would have had to consciously stop himself from getting up and kissing him. _Again. _He recalled their night together with a small proud smirk.  
But wait.   
Harry was high then. Was he high now?   
_Oh shit. _  
Louis had never dealt with anyone who was on drugs. The only thing Nick ever did was smoke weed and Louis didn't even know what Harry was on. And he had been drinking too and Louis didn't know if this was turning into something bad. How was he supposed to know if Harry was overdosing or God knows what else?   
_Shit. _________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________________"Harry?"  
Harry grunted and shifted slightly.   
"Harry, I need you to get up. Uh, open your eyes." Louis wasn't sure but he had a pretty good idea that he wasn't doing the situation any good.   
"Harry."   
_Oh God Dammit. _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Louis stood up and fished his phone out of his pocket to text Nick really quickly and then pulled Harry up and lead him through the club and out into his car.  
"Harry. Get up"  
Louis was annoyed. He just wanted to have a laugh with Harry again, like they had, and yes he wanted to know what Harry had to say about them hooking up. But Harry just had to go get all drugged up first. Louis sighed.   
Maybe it was for the best. Harry was a drug addict after all, he reminded himself. Here's your proof. It's too much trouble Louis, just take him home or to a hospital or something and give up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________But Louis looked over at Harry laying in the passenger seat of his car with his eyes shut and he just couldn't. He wasn't even sure what the fuck it was about Harry, but there was something. Something that Louis couldn't just walk away from, not unless he wanted to spend every day of the rest of his life wondering. He knew this was probably a bad idea, fuck it it _was _a bad idea. He didn't know anything about Harry Styles except that he was trouble, but that wasn't enough. Louis had to know more. There was just something in his voice and his eyes and his smirk that something inside of Louis, something that he didn't have any control over, wanted to know.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________He heard Harry mumble something which snapped him back into reality.  
"What?"  
" Said why'd you stop. Talking. Like your voice. It's better.."  
Louis scoffed before he even realized he was. He had always hated his voice, hated how shrill and stupid it was. He didn't suppose it fit him very much.   
"Oh, well um.." Louis couldn't figure out what to say in this sort of situation. "Sorry but like _are you okay _or should I like be worried here?"  
Harry chuckled and opened his eyes at Louis. They were just barely open but through little slits Louis could see how glassy they were and how dark pupils took over leaving a very thin rim of green.   
"I just can't do it anymore."  
"Do what Harry?"  
"Anything. All of it. It's just. It's too much. I'm too fucked up."  
"Um.." Louis wasn't sure what Harry meant. "Well I mean I can take you home and you can like sleep it off.."  
"No."  
"Um, no?"  
"This is the only way I can do it, Louis."  
Louis stared at the boy and wondered how someone so tall could seem so terribly small at that moment, and he wondered why all he could focus on was the way Harry's voice carried out his name.   
"Sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't..I..you should just let me go and leave me alone. I'm no good for you Louis you're so light. And I'm just dark..it's all dark.."___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________Louis looked at Harry, the sad, broken angel sitting in his car and all he wanted to do was fix him.  
"Louis.."  
"Yea?"  
"Why do you bother with me?"  
Louis wasn't sure what to say but then Harry's eyes were closed again and he didn't think Harry was waiting for an answer. He had one, thought of saying it anyway, but let the words echo in his own mind instead.   
_Because I think I might love you. _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________Louis had eventually forced Harry's address out from him and helped him over to the door. Harry had mumbled things the whole way there and Louis just listened and took it all in. He enjoyed the sound of Harry's voice, the raspiness. He especially liked when he said his name. They got up to the door and Harry had went to stumble in on his own, motioning that he was fine. Louis had watched him take a step in, and turn his head back towards Louis, curls falling around and squinting eyes looking at him as he said "you've got a better arse than my girlfriend" before he went in and said thanks and closed the door. Louis was left, paralyzed in front of the door.  
" _girlfriend _"  
Louis didn't like the way that sounded on Harry's tongue. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________~_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________"Harry?"  
Harry had taken to collapsing in a pile in front of the door, chuckling slightly as Alex approached because Harry was sure neither one of them could count the number of times a similar situation had occurred.  
"Who was that?"  
Harry tipped his head forward at the voice and squinted his eyes to try and focus.  
"Effy?"  
"Um, yea mate I did text you and say she had come here looking for you. Are you alright?"  
Harry let his head fall back against the door, hard, because he really didn't need this right now. He was faguely aware that his girlfriend's presence shouldn't make him feel the need to leave but fuck it. Maybe he felt guilty, for being with Louis. Louis wasn't exactly a friend, seeing as they _had _hooked up. But it was a one time thing, it wasn't like it happened again. But right then Harry wasn't sure if it would have happened again or not.  
He struggled to get up but eventually got to his feet and tried to push past them as quickly as he could without making any eye contact.   
"Fine," he mumbled.   
But his coordination was gone and he stumbled into the kitchen table and before he could recover Alex had hands on him sitting him down. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________________"Harry?"  
So Harry looked up at Alex and then he knew and Harry only wished he could translate through expression that he wanted Effy gone.   
Everything seemed to get furtherer away from him, like he was stepping back. His senses were fucked up from the drugs and his mind was having an even harder time focusing because all he could think of was Louis and Effy and Louis and Effy and how they both didn't fit together in his life.  
"Well he's fucked up obviously," he heard Effy say, seemingly from somewhere far away and it made him laugh.   
"You don't know the half of it."   
He got up and made his way into his room and locked the door. Harry wasn't sure what it was he _wanted _to do but he knew he had to get out of the flat. He just couldn't be bothered with either one of them, not in his current state. He just wanted to go somewhere and have a laugh with someone who wasn't going to be down his throat about getting fucked up.  
So he took out his phone and he knew he shouldn't call, he knew he had already fucked it up and inconvenienced him but..  
 _Ring, Ring... _  
"Harry? Everything alright?"  
"Um, Louis.."  
"You got in alright didn't you?"  
"Can I..I need to get out of here.."  
"..Harry, I don't think that's really a good idea. You should probably just go sleep off whatever you took.."  
"No, Louis. I need, I want to see you..like, go do something or..I don't know. Everything is just..and they're just..you're the only one around lately that doesn't make me want to set myself on fire."  
And Harry wasn't sure what he was saying but he knew he sounded stupid but then Louis was speaking again and Harry's mind was swimming but Louis' voice brought so much clarity that Harry couldn't understand.   
"Well we can't have you doing that now can we? What do you want to do love?"_____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________And the way Louis said it reminded Harry of his mum and her voice. He realized inn some ways Louis did remind him of her and he supposed that was weird, mostly considering he had all but fucked him. But it wasn't like _that _it was just that everything in Harry's life always seemed to be a mess, always sent him spinning and spinning without direction and then in the middle of it all was his mum. She always kept him grounded, kept him from getting lost. And Harry had gotten so lost while she was away in the hospital that he didn't even know himself anymore and Alex was there and he cared but it wasn't the same. Harry never thought anything else would be, but then Louis came along. And maybe it was his shining eyes or his voice or something Harry wasn't even aware of yet but he had the same effect on him. In a world where Harry was spinning out of control, Louis' voice just got right through all the bullshit and locked into his mind and snapped him out of it. Harry hadn't even known he needed something like that until he found it.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________"Um, can we like just walk..or sit, just like..in the park or something"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________Harry knew he was bad with people. He always pushed everyone away and made them end up hating him, so he had really just stopped trying. And he knew he was a mess and he knew he was no good. And Louis was the opposite; Louis was bright and shiny and pure and innocent smirks and unknowing rides home and Harry didn't want to ruin that. He didn't want Louis to look to at his face and almost be able to tell what he had taken and how fucked he was like he knew Alex could. He didn't want time after time of finding Harry in some incoherent state, worrying and panicking and asking why and what did you take and how much. He didn't want sighs and "again's" and losing hope. He didn't want to tarnish Louis, to drag him down and make him bathe around in all of the bullshit that was Harry's life because Louis was too good for that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________"Of course. Be there in like ten."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________But Harry needed someone like Louis. Maybe he would deny it, swear he didn't need anyone and maybe a bit back in time that could have been true but Harry was a danger to himself. This new low he was seemingly trapped in was desensitizing him in a way. Every time he felt he couldn't take it and went to escape it, he was becoming more and more reckless. He didn't care anymore. And someone like Louis, who captivated him no matter how low and lost he was, was what he needed, whether he knew it to admit it or not._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________And Harry would blame it on the drugs and how fucked up his mind was but when Louis' car pulled up and he saw Louis smile at him from the window, Harry thought it was a beautiful sight, something so alive in his world where death surrounded him and he thought he wanted to always see Louis' smile directed at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	9. Chapter 9

Harry woke up to a soft blanket around him in an unfamiliar room. He sat up and rubbed his tired eyes and groaned as he was met with a massive headache. He remembered getting back to his flat last night and wanting to leave. He remembered Alex telling him he had to stop acting like he was and he remembered yelling back things at him in anger. Harry remembered yelling at Effy to stop asking questions, for just both of them to fuck off. He remembered stomping out the door and waiting on the corner for Louis.  
 _Louis._  
Harry couldn't remember exactly what had happened after they went to the park, but he remembered Louis' kind eyes and his smile. The way that he talked softly and listened on patiently to Harry's rambles. He remembered the feeling he had, one he hadn't been able to find for quite some time. Calm. 

So Harry concluded he must be at Louis' place. He sat himself up and threw his legs over the side of the bed but kept the navy blue duvet wrapped around his shoulders. Harry didn't feel like being cold and thinking of death right then. 

Even though he felt something extremely similar to that, what with the drilling in his head and the turning in his stomach.  
Stupid pills, he thought. Always fucking with his stomach. It was a shame really, because he did quite enjoy the feeling they gave him. He chuckled slightly at the realization he was quite sure millions of other things in the world were a shame, but the fact that pills you had taken to get high made you nauseous was not one of them. 

He spotted a few picture frames on the dresser across the room. Sure enough there were pictures of Louis at numerous times in his life. One of him and Nick that must've been from a while back. Louis was stood on his tippy toes to try and reach to make bunny ears behind Nick's head. There was one of Louis inside a tattoo shop, most likely the one he worked at, with a few other tattooed men and one older looking guy with his arm around Louis' shoulder. There was one of him in the middle of tattooing a lion on some bloke's arm, a candid shot, with Louis looked up and caught off guard with his mouth slightly open and big blue eyes staring upward. Harry liked that one the best. He liked seeing Louis as who he really was, in his natural environment. 

Harry spotted a frame that was faced away from the front. He reached out and brought it up to his face and saw a much younger Louis smiling bright and wide next to some lad in what appeared to be a stadium but Harry wasn't sure. He wondered why Louis had it facing away, so it couldn't be seen but still bothered to have it up at all. Or maybe it was just an accident. 

Harry looked around and noted how everything in Louis' bedroom was so neat and organized. He couldn't figure out if that matched Louis or not but then he spotted a large binder on the floor in between the bed and the nightstand. Harry got closer and saw it appeared to say "portfolio". Just as he was going to reach for it he heard a voice from the other room. 

"Yea. Yea I know, mate. But I only had one client today anyway and he had to cancel."  
Harry moved closer to the door to listen.  
"Yea well you blokes need to learn how to get on without me anyway. What's gonna happen when I move far, far away?"  
Louis laughed and Harry noted the pitch of it, storing it somewhere in the back of his mind.   
"Alright then, well, call if you need extra help. I doubt it tho considering we're supposed to get some sort of massive amount of snow later..yea, cool man. Later."

Harry waited a few seconds then exited the bedroom, duvet still held tight around his broad shoulders. 

"Hey.."  
"Oh hey then. Sleep alright?" Harry liked the way Louis' eyes scrunched up at the sides when he smiled.   
"Oh..yea, yea 'was good."  
"Good..yea sorry it's a bit cold in here, heat takes a while to start up when it's this cold outside. It's suppose to snow later."  
Harry blushed slightly realizing Louis had taken note of the fact that Harry was wearing his bloody blanket, and like maybe he didn't like that.   
"Oh yea um sorry.." He started to shake it off of him but Louis stopped him with a hand up.  
"No, no it's fine, yea? Here sit down."  
Harry sat down and watched Louis reach forward to take a large pile of sketches and drawings off the small kitchen table. Harry watched, maybe a bit too closely, as Louis' sleeves pulled up a bit and revealed a series of small tattoos on each wrist. The left one looked to be some sort of bracelet tattooed on followed by a small skull and something Harry couldn't make out from his seat. The right sleeve had lifted up a bit more than the other and Harry could see some sort of rope and the head of a bird on top of Louis' wrist. He found himself wanting to strip Louis naked and trace every single tattoo and hear Louis tell the story behind each one. 

Harry had a few small tattoos, mostly all done by some junkie "friend" he had met at a party or whatever. Most of them had no meaning other than the fact that he had been high and the blokes had said they'd given people tattoos before and Harry had said something along the lines of oh cool, give me one. Harry figured maybe if he hadn't spent most of the money he had made by selling drugs, on buying them then maybe he would have a few more, professionally done. Maybe he could go to Louis' shop and get one there. He wasn't sure if he wanted Louis to do it himself though. Harry just wanted to be there, unnoticed and watch Louis talk about things he liked and things he knew and watch him concentrate and etch some brilliant design into someone's skin. If he was too close into it, too close to Louis, he would probably spend most of the time staring at his eyes, like Harry found himself continuing to do whenever he was close enough. 

"Uh, want some tea or something? Sorry I don't think I have any coffee here at the moment.."   
Harry tried to not stare at Louis' arse as he reached up into the cabinet he could barely reach.   
"Uh no tea's fine." He said, trying to hide his smirk. 

Harry sat at the table and looked around into the rest of Louis' flat. It was small, but it didn't _look_ small. There was just the small table in the kitchen against the wall with two chairs, and another spare one over in the corner, currently being used to hold the books and papers Louis had moved. For a small flat, it was nice. Nothing was falling apart or leaking and the wall colors and tiles all matched in the same color scheme and somehow Harry just knew that wasn't an accident. In the other room Harry could see a small sofa, some deep wine red color, with a stand next to holding a decent sized lamp. Across from it was bookshelf, moderately filled with books that Harry couldn't make out from where he was and a television next to it. Over more to the right was a window with a small windowseat under it and past that was what Harry assumed to be a coat closet, and then behind almost directly behind the sofa was the front door. Harry liked being in Louis' little world. It was clean and bright and just so _Louis_. In the short amount of time he had known him, Harry was sure that this made sense. The only thing missing from Louis' little world was a cat or something. (But definitely _not_ Harry waking up like this, to Louis making him tea.) 

Harry tried to hide his smile as he watched Louis bustle around getting cups and making the tea, all while whistling. He wondered when Louis had moved in there, and why he lived alone. He must have a decent amount of money saved up already, because Harry wasn't totally sure but he did think that tattoo artists only made as much money as the clients they had. He decided that was Louis like too, saving his money and not blowing it all on drugs. 

"Here we go then."   
Louis sat down across from Harry and took a sip of his tea.   
"How are you feeling?"  
And for some reason the question caught Harry off guard until he remembered that he still didn't know how he had even ended up in Louis' flat.  
"Uh..a-alright.."   
He didn't know what he should say. He knew he should apologize but since he couldn't actually remember the night before he wasn't sure what to apologize for, other then taking over Louis' bed.   
"I, uh, sorry..for like.."  
Louis waved his hand up to Harry as he set his cup back down and swallowed.   
"No need. Do you remember coming here?"  
Harry didn't want to meet Louis' eyes because he didn't deserve their shine. He shook his head no and wished he could.   
"Right, I sort of figured. Well I mean you said you didn't want to go back to yours so we came back here, 'cos it was so bloody fucking cold out. And then I showed you to the bathroom and came back to check on you 'cos it had been awhile and found you passed out in my bed."  
Harry looked up, mortified. He was sure he had passed out in worse places and done worse things to people than taking up their bed, but none of them had been Louis. And Harry would have been lying if he said that he knew why that made such a difference.   
"Look I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you even.."  
"It wasn't a bother, I just figured I'd let you sleep it off here then have to carry you out and into yours and have your flatmate you kept complaining about have more of a reason to be pissed at you."  
Harry smirked. "Well thanks, I appreciate it."  
Louis smiled at him and Harry felt himself smile too. They sat in comfortable silence finishing their tea. 

Louis dropped Harry off at his flat and watched him walk in with a small wave. He wondered why he hadn't told Harry more. Why hadn't he asked him about his girlfriend and how he hadn't wanted to see her but wanted to see him, after he had let Louis suck him off a few days prior. Louis had a million questions for Harry, and he supposed he would never get an answer for the majority of them. He wanted to know why Harry got high, what all the little incoherent rambles and mumbles meant. Harry Styles was like a book that Louis had been drawn to, only to find out it was written in a language Louis couldn't understand, other than a few words. He wanted to translate it, to know everything that made Harry who he was. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing.   
"Hello?"  
"Hey fucker, why'd you blow me off last night? Said you were coming 'round to the after party and never showed up. Don't think I didn't notice Tommo, you left before I even went on and didn't even come 'round to celebrate. Some best mate."  
 _Shit._ Louis had forgotten to text Nick back after Harry called him.   
"I..um..well.."  
And dammit, Louis really needed to work on his ability to lie to Nick.   
"Oh shit, you were with your new lover weren't you!" Louis rolled his eyes and groaned as he heard Nick chuckle down the line. "My sincerest apologizes, I hope you were safe."  
"Jesus, Grimmy, I told you I didn't fuck him, and I still didn't."  
"Ah, so you WERE with him, then."  
Louis hated Nick.   
"Yes, okay, I wass with himm. And we still did not fuck. I am capable of being mates with a bloke and not fucking him, or do you not consider yourself one?"  
"Well none of your other mates, including myself, let you suck them off in a bar bathroom."  
Louis rolled his eyes. He knew by now he wouldn't be able to win with Nick.   
"Whatever. I'm off today, wanna go get a bite or something since I know you're dying to tell me all about your night."  
"If you're not here in ten, I'll eat something here. 'm starving."  
Louis scoffed. "Be there in six you useless wanker."  
"Good lad."

Louis got home from the diner he and Nick always went to and immediately got out his sketchpad. He had been willing every single traffic light to turn green before he even approached it. Louis liked Harry, that much was obvious, but Harry was just so _handsome_ like actually quite breathtakingly attractive. Louis stared at his jawline and his dimples, the way that his curls fell, the pink of his cheeks and the shape of his lips. Louis had known he wanted to get to know Harry from the very first time he had seen him. He also recalled telling himself he was going to draw a series of portraits of Harry, which he had never gotten around to finishing. Louis had no way of knowing that he would get to actually spend time with Harry, but it fueled him to long for his sketchbook and so since he didn't have to work today, he was going to take advantage of it. 

Louis had walked into his bedroom to check on Harry the night before, and instantly knew it was a scene he wanted to capture. If he hadn't been so tired and cold himself, longing for a hot shower, he would have taken it out and drawn it right then. But he had stared so long that he found he could still see it perfectly in his mind. The way that Harry was draped over on his stomach across the bed, as if he had literally fallen into it. The way he pulled the duvet carelessly around him. The way his arms hung off the side of the bed. The way his curls hung down. The way he looked so peaceful. 

Louis finished the drawing before he had even realized he had begun. Looking down at the sheet of paper, the black and white charcoaled sketch, he wanted to draw more. Louis had always been partial to black and white. He liked the way that when everything is brought down to two tones, it simplifies what would be busy, and lets the main focus stand out. Back in school Louis had taken a photography class, which he had absolutely loved. That's when he really got into black and white. He had one particular project he had to do and he had taken a candid shot (of the boy he had been hopelessly in love with back then) and it was in black and white and Louis fell in love with it. He hadn't even planned on using that particular shot for anything, but once he developed the film and saw it, there was no other photograph that would ever compare. He loved everything about it; the way the boy wasn't looking and Louis had caught him looking down and smiling and the way everything in the background was silenced. Louis loved how a shot where the subject wasn't even looking, not even facing the camera, had done such an incredible job of capturing the boy's actual _soul._

Louis became obsessed with the concept of black and white photography and fell in love with a quote he found which said   
"When you photograph people in color, you photograph their clothes. But when you photograph people in black and white, you photograph their souls"  
and subsequently became obsessed with Ted Grant. 

Louis decided he needed to go dig out his old camera and set himself up with a nice little dark room and take a million photographs of Harry. Harry had a story to tell, and Louis wanted to be the only one who could read it and he figured capturing Harry's soul would be a great start.  
But for the time being, Louis had a drawer full of oil paint and deep, colored imagines in his mind of Harry Styles' lips and blushing cheeks and eyes so colorful they were begging Louis to paint them. Louis would capture Harry's soul later, for now he would just try to recreate something he already knew; Harry's beauty. 

It had taken Louis four tries to mix the right shade of green to portray Harry's eyes, and he was pleased to say he nailed it. He had first painted a scene of Harry sat at his kitchen table, with tired eyes and pink cheeks when he had tried to apologize. He had then done another of Harry smiling with dimples and a hand brushing curls out of his face while the other held a cup of tea. Harry was the most beautiful subject Louis had ever seen and he wanted to draw him forever.

He had just begun another charcoal sketch of Harry laying on the grass, curls a mess over his head when they were at the park when his phone rang.   
Shit, it had been nearly four hours. Louis wasn't sure what that said about him really, that he had spent hours mixing the right shades to perfectly capture Harry, but he figured he had done a fucking good job so he ignored it.   
"Hello?"  
"Louis."  
"Yea? Who's this?"It was a number Louis didn't know and there was so much background noise he could barely make out the voice saying his name.   
"Louis," was all it said again and then Louis heard some kind of loud crash. "It's me."  
And suddenly it all made sense, while at the same time not making any at all.  
"Harry? 's that you? What's goin' on?"  
"Well, see there was some sort of-"   
Louis heard another loud crash followed by a few smaller bangs.   
"Sort of a, er, mis-under-stand-ing."  
Harry drew out the words and Louis wasn't sure if that was supposed to mean something to him or not.   
"Are you alright, Harry? Where are you?"  
Louis heard another loud bang followed by some yelling.   
"I want to see you Louis. Let's hangout, yea?"  
And Harry suddenly sounded so normal, like there was no type of catastrophe happening around him.  
"Harry..are..are you.. _high_?"  
Harry laughed his manic loud laugh but Louis figured it wasn't directed towards him.   
"Promise you I'm not. Don't worry, just want to like talk. Without you needing to assist me in things I can't even remember."  
"Oh, well, er, good.."  
"You've got a nice voice Louis, I just want to remember what it's saying so I can..just hear it." Louis was not convinced Harry was sober but something inside him spoke up and agreed before his mind caught up to question it further. And ten minutes later he found himself making his way towards one of the more seedy parts of London, despite Harry's protests to meet him. 

Harry got into Louis' car, all wide smiles and gangly limbs.   
"Heyy Louis!"  
Louis couldn't help but smile and chuckle at the way the boy looked so genuinely happy to be there.   
"Soo, I think we need to get some pizza. Or else this won't be proper."  
Harry smiled at him and it made Louis smile too. "Oh yea? What won't be proper, then?"  
Harry just smirked at Louis, with this wide toothy grin. Louis thought that if he wasn't so _perfect_ looking, what with his dimples and perfectly white shining, straight as nails teeth and pink perfection in the form of pouty lips, that he would look rather ridiculous smiling so wide. He really had that type of toothpaste commercial looking smile, where it seems photoshopped, because really how can anyone look like that? God, Louis thought. Stop fucking staring at him you twat.

Louis focused his attention again on the road and obeyed Harry's wishes, driving to the first pizza joint he spotted, once they were in a safer area that is. He was idly tapping along to the radio as he waited for Harry, who had insisted Louis wait in the car and refused to take his money towards it. Harry got back in the car, still all wild smiles. Louis decided he really, _really_ had got to stop staring at him because it was making him really, _really_ want to kiss him. 

"Got it!" Louis had to smirk at Harry holding up the box for him to see, looking proud as anyone ever could. He leaned back into the seat and told Louis to go wherever he thought would make as the best place to eat a pizza. Louis watched as Harry gazed out the window with a permanent slight smile on his face.  
Louis turned the radio up slightly at the sound of Imagine Dragons, one of the few things the radio played that wasn't complete rubbish really.   
_When you feel my heat, look into my eyes.._  
He tapped along idly as he drove, bobbing his head along ever so slightly. He heard a voice, a bit louder and was caught off guard to find it coming from Harry.

"Don't get too close, it's dark inside. It's where my demons hide."

Louis just stared at him, unable to look away although he was aware how odd it was. When Harry noticed he just smirked again.   
"Do you not like this song then?"  
"No I do, it's just..bloody hell Harry you have a great voice."  
Harry let out a laugh and brushed curls out of his face.  
"Not really, I don't. It's just that it's so raspy. People have this odd liking for awful raspy voices in singers. But thanks."

Harry continued to look at Louis after he shifted his focus again on the road. This was bad, Harry thought. He shouldn't be here, in this car with Louis, going to hang out alone with him. That's how people fall in love, he thought.

_Don't wanna let you down, but I am hellbound..._

Harry watched Louis, watched the way he turned his head slightly and mouthed along to the music. He watched the way his fingers tapped along on the steering wheel. Louis was what Harry wanted to be; light and happy. Harry was putting up a front, to make up for getting fucked up and falling asleep in Louis' bed; he wasn't happy. Far from it, actually, and mostly sober aside from the three shots of vodka he took before. He hated it, he hated being sober and feeling everything. But there was still something about Louis that made him forget, or so he thought, so he wanted to try it out. He didn't want to push Louis away before he even knew. He watched the way Louis parked the car and turned to him. "Here we are" he smiled at him. Harry wasn't sure what was smiling brighter, his mouth or his eyes. He decided he would like to keep staring at Louis until he figured it out. 

_Your eyes, they shine so bright_  
I wanna save that light  
I can't escape this now   
Unless you show me how 

Harry heard right before Louis took the keys out of the ignition. Yes, he thought. He wanted to capture Louis' light to save it and keep it in a jar next to his bed, or store some in a watch so he could carry it around and look at it whenever things got so hard it was hard to even see himself. 

Harry swallowed all his thoughts and followed Louis out of the car with the pizza box.   
"Where are we, exactly?"  
" _This_ is my old hangout."  
Harry looked at the old building and looked back at Louis.  
"What is there like some sort of invitation only club going on in there?"  
Louis had to smile at Harry's smirk.   
He walked around the back and fished out his key. 

"I used to come here when I was in college. My uncle used to own it and he let me basically use this room down here to do whatever the fuck I wanted. Which was mostly art."  
Louis unlocked the door and Harry followed him down the few stairs. Louis used his phone as a light to make sure there were no homeless people or stray animals about. He scanned over the room and turned back to Harry.  
"Guess I didn't really like think this through. Pretty dark." 

Harry just smiled at him anyway, until his eyes caught on something behind Louis.  
"Was that yours?" He pointed towards the far wall, walking towards it. It was painted on the wall, in bright clusters of color that resembled a person, a face without features. Underneath the neck it turned into gray than black almost violently.   
"Oh, yea."   
Harry liked it. It reminded him of himself almost.  
" 'S good."

Louis looked down with a small smile, reminiscently.   
"I actually remember the exact day I did that. I was so fucking angry," he laughed.  
" I had a like makeshift dark room over there, see? I had a curtain up and I'd wait until the sun was down and put a towel under the door, just in case. I took it very seriously seeing as I thought I was to be the next great photographer." He laughed again  
" And I came after school that day ready to finish a project and I discovered this hole there see. Well I flipped out and fucking took all the shots and tossed them outside, not realizing that college was just a few blocks away and the shots were all candids I'd taken of this kid I was totally in love with. Needless to say since the universe was against me that day he happened to walk by as I was throwing them in the trash and one fell and he saw it and you know."  
Louis looked down almost sadly.   
"And so he found out I was gay and that I was hopelessly in love with him and he didn't take so kindly to it and I was so angry I went it and did this. It's supposed to be him I guess with a black hole for a heart." 

Harry smiled.   
"What?" Louis asked not wanting to smile but not being able to help it.   
"Nothing I just like it is all. And he'd have to be a heartless bastard to not take too kindly to you Louis"  
Louis smiled and sat down.   
"Lets eat this pizza before it gets cold,yea?"  
Harry sat down and took out his cell phone too, the two of them using their flashlights to light enough for them to eat without struggle.   
They sat in comfortable silence for some time until Harry spoke again.

"Why'd you stop taking pictures?"  
"What makes you think I did?"  
"Well I, um I didn't see a camera or anything at yours..I mean..I..sorry I don't know.."  
Harry rubbed at his neck awkwardly in embarrassment. He wasn't sure why Louis made him feel like such a useless awkward twat, but he did.  
Louis chuckled.   
"I guess it was after that really. Sort of lost the whole beauty of the whole capturing someone's soul when I realized a lot of those people's souls are fucking hideous."  
Louis said it lightly and laughed but Harry sensed there was more to it, more to why Louis wouldn't photograph anymore.   
He didn't want to be another reason for Louis to give something up, and he knew he would be because that's just how Harry was. He broke things and broke people down, always had.   
"I should probably get going.."  
He knew he sounded like the biggest twat since _he_ had been the one to call Louis but Louis didn't seem to care or think anything if it. 

"So where am I dropping you off to Harold?" Louis asked as he unlocked his car.  
"Um.."  
Harry thought about it. He wasn't sure. He knew he should probably go see Effy or at least go home and call her. He had been spending a lot of time in the east end lately in quite seedy bars and clubs with quite rowdy people. Harry liked the distraction. The _destruction._   
"You can just drop me wherever really. I'm heading back to where you picked me up."   
He realized maybe it sounded like he was ditching Louis.   
"Said I'd meet a friend soon," He added quickly.   
A lie.

Louis nodded shortly.   
"Harry what were you even doing there? I mean it's not the best area and like there's a million places closer to like your flat and all.."  
Harry ignored the flutter in his stomach he got at realizing Louis was worried about him.  
"I mean..it's just.."  
"I just fit there, you know?"  
"I don't think you do Harry. Those places are full of like..not people like you."  
Harry scoffed. "You don't even know me Louis. Trust me I belong there just as much as them."  
"What about your girlfriend then?"  
Harry gazed out the window, not liking the turn this conversation had taken, and trying his best not to show it.  
"What about her?"  
He pretended that he didn't have a reason to feel guilty, like he hasn't acted as though he had no girlfriend and Louis pretended like he didn't want Harry to say just that, that she was gone.   
"Why aren't you with her, instead of there?"  
Harry didn't have an answer.   
"Why didn't you have pizza with her, Harry?"  
And damn Louis and his eyes and his gaze, all hopeful like he knew the truth and just wanted to hear it and Harry couldn't even think of a lie.

"I told you. I wanted to like proper have a laugh with you is all."   
"-and she's busy today" he added as an afterthought   
Louis just nodded, focusing once again on the road.  
They continued to drive in silence, Harry wanting to get high and stop thinking and Louis wanting to stay with Harry and keep him away from bad places and bad people.  
"You'll have to tell me where it is once we get about there."  
"You could just let out here."  
"Harry please. I'm not letting you wonder around here at this time alone when I could easily brig you the whole way."  
"Just straight up then a left on Greengate all the way down."  
"Do you come round here often?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Suppose. Lately anyway."  
Louis could tell Harry was shutting him out now, but he kept trying anyway.   
"Why's that?"  
And Harry really didn't want to be doing this.   
"Dunno. Why do you hang out wherever you do Louis?"  
"I suppose I don't know"  
"Right then"  
"Harry."  
"Louis."  
"I know I don't know you very well.."  
"You don't know me at all Louis."  
"Right or at all, as you like to keep reminding me. But I want to, like I like you Harry. You're good. I'm just saying like..You do fit other places too, with other people..if you wanted to..."  
Louis stopped but Harry understood. He liked being around Louis but it didn't matter. He had to break the ties now before he ruined Louis like he ruined everything. And Louis was so pretty and clean and Harry knew he just all dirt and grime and he just didn't want to see Louis get ruined because of him.  
"Here we are. Thanks for the ride and all."  
Louis looked at Harry with a sad smile, knowing he hadn't gotten through to him still.   
"No problem. Really."  
"See you around then Louis."  
"See you Harry."

Harry got out of Louis' car and all but ran into the bar. He didn't deserve to spend time with Louis and make him worry about him. It was making him feel awful and he needed an escape. He spotted a familiar face leaning on the bar.   
"Have you seem Tim?"  
"Think he just went out back dunno."  
Harry ran out the door and spotted him getting into a car  
"TIM!"  
He ran over, relieved he had heard him, his desperation increasing as his patience dissolved with every thought he had tried ignoring all afternoon coming flooding back in his mind.   
"Wussup then Harry?"  
"What have you got on you right now."  
"Not much I'm goin' to pick up right now."  
Harry was sure his hands were shaking.   
"Well what have you got."  
"Just a couple grams of smack."  
Harry didn't even hesitate long enough to think about how he'd never done heroin before. He didn't think that it would be bad for him to get into a new habit when he already had too many as it is. All he was thinking about was how badly he wanted to be around Louis and how wrong that was.  
So he gave Tim his money, all of the money he had on him, and took the bag and ran inside the bar.  
He burst into the bathroom and found it empty.   
"Oh fucking shit!" He yelled slamming his hands against the wall above his head.   
He didn't have a needle. He didn't have anything. He had spent all of his money on something he had no way of doing.   
He went back out to the bar  
"Hey mate, um. Is there anyone around who..is using or..fucking shit I need something to shoot up with." Harry didn't even care at that point. He didn't care about anything except blocking everything out.   
The guy looked at his for a second but then answered.   
"Not sure but I think some of them keep something under the tile in the bathroom."

Harry all but ran back in. His eyes scanned the floor quickly until he spotted a tile that looked ever so slightly higher up then the rest. He went into that stall and locked the door behind him (and didn't think for a second about the last time he had left a stall unlocked) and pulled the tile up. Sure enough there was a small box, about the size of a case you'd use to hold glasses, and inside was a rusty old looking spoon, a nearly empty lighter and a dull looking needle that Harry was sure was broken.   
At that point he found he was so amped with anticipation and desperation that he didn't even care. It would have to do.   
He sat down and fumbled with the bag, setting a rock in the spoon and looking at it. He let out a breath, still not even entirely sure what he was doing. He took his lighter out of his pocket and started burning the substance. He watched it begin to dissolve and when it was enough he took the needle and let out another breath.  
No use going back now, he thought.   
He stuck the tip into the substance and watched it draw it up. He set the spoon down, then the needle carefully and took his jacket off. He rolled his sleeve up and on a wim decided to use the chain of his necklace to try and pull the skin taut. Harry picked up the needle and stared at it.   
"Fuck it," he said and stuck it into his skin.  
Harry wasn't sure but he felt something exceedingly close to sheer and utter bliss as he leaned back and hunched against the wall of the bathroom.   
~  
Harry woke up to his body being lurched forward as vomit came flooding out of him. He wasn't sure if he was even awake as it was happening. His stomach was clenching and his body was shaking and he felt sickeningly horrid.   
A heroin high was so different from a meth high; it didn't mask your emotions it brought you somewhere new entirely. He wanted it back. Especially after being awoken from a blissful dream into this harsh reality and Harry was sure he understood why Gemma was so desperate to get more, even after just his one time. He looked around him, looked at the disgustingly dirty bathroom stall he had been in for who knows how long now, and he was sure it mirrored his life. Harry realized this was it, this was him hitting basically rock bottom, as far as he could fall. And that accompanied with how utterly ill he felt was making him want to cry.   
Harry had no idea what time it was or what day it was but he searched for his phone and called the only person he could think of. 

Harry sat in the backseat of the cab leaning his head against the seat and peering out the window. His body kept shaking and he had to concentrate on the road to stop from throwing up again. He heard Alex pay the driver and grab his arm to help him out. Harry wasn't sure why he was finding it difficult to even walk but he felt generally horrid and only half of it was due to the drugs. He got inside and made his way into his bedroom like a zombie, too out if it to even care. He closed the door and went into his drawer taking out three small pills. He swallowed then with an entire bottle of water he found next to his bed and laid in his bed and cried to himself until he fell into a drug induced sleep. 

"Harry? You need to get up. Come on now, it's time to. You at least need to shower and get out of that shit. Come on I'll help."  
Harry laid in bed, where he had been since he got back to the flat something like 21 hours ago.   
Alex pulled him up and literally forced him into the bathroom. He turned on the water for a bath and pulled Harry's shirt off over his head.   
"I'm throwing this out Haz," he said examining the dirt and vomit covered shirt. Harry thought that now all his light colored shirts were ruined, seeing as he only had two and the one he had worn when he met Louis was still stained with his blood.  
"Just get in and relax, the warm water will be good for your muscles too. I'll make you some tea and something to eat, alright?"  
Harry just stood there, unspeaking and not looking at Alex, instead focusing in the wall. Alex left him and Harry obeyed and got into the bath. He sat there the same way, unmoving and unfocused until Alex came back and told him the tea was ready. He heard him ask if he wanted help but be didn't answer. He just got out of the tub himself and sat on the edge, carelessly drapping a towel over himself.   
Alex came in and handed him the first set of clothing he had found. Harry emerged from the bathroom in a striped cotton tee and gray joggers he was sure he had gotten rid of years ago. He sat down at the kitchen table at Alex's request and nibbled at a piece of toast. Alex spoke to him but Harry couldn't even hear it. He stared straight ahead of him, still not speaking and still not seemingly to pay attention to anything.

"Haz can you please say something,so I can at least know you still _can_ talk."  
Harry wished heroin use led to lack of vocal chords.  
He wished it led to the halting of thought process altogether.  
Harry finished half his tea and nearly half of a piece of toast and mindlessly and still wordlessly shuffled back into his room. He laid in his bed on his side again,staring at the wall unmoving. He heard his phone vibrate on the nightstand and wondered who would actually care if he never spoke again. More than half the people who he spoke to were junkies or dealers. Then there was Alex. Then Gemma occasionally, but she was mostly a junkie. Then there was Effy who he was still avoiding. Then there was Niall and them, who he hadn't even talked to in weeks.   
He was sure no one would care if he dropped dead right then.

Harry hated how much he hated his life. He hated how much he fucked it up, how it was too late for him to fix any of it. He hated how he wished his mum would just stop suffering. He hated even more how he partly wanted that so he could just let himself die without feeling a need to stick around. It would crush his mum, kill her. He couldn't be the one to do that to her. Something made her sick but kept her around this long. If Harry believed in that sort of thing he would say it was for him and Gemma, so they could fix themselves and have something to look at and say look how strong she is, I can be strong too. 

~  
Harry was stood outside the hospital waiting for the bus when he saw Gemma approaching.   
"Hey, Gemma!" He called to her.   
"Hey Harry." She didn't look as bad as he remembered and he was happy about that. Maybe she had stopped using. "How's she?"   
"Pretty good."  
"Better than last week, then?"  
"Uh..I,uh.." Harry tried to think of some way to ask without admitting he hadn't been around. He gabe up with a sigh. "What happened last week."  
Harry was crushed my guilt that he hadn't been there for her because he was too busy wallowing in his own misery.  
"She was feeling a bit ill, they thought she might have been getting a cold or something."  
Harry cringed. He knew cancer patients and colds were about as dangerous together as any of the chemical substances he had taken last week.  
"Oh well no, she didn't seem sick at all." _I hope_.   
"Cool uh, see you later then."

Harry felt awful. He had to make it up to her somehow. Christmas was excessively close now and he wanted to get her something perfect. Something that reminded her she was special. But he couldn't think of anything practical. It was hard, because he couldn't get her any jewelry or clothing really because it wasn't like she could wear it out anywhere. He thought about getting her a really nice pair of slippers or something but thought that was pretty fucking lame.   
Last Christmas he hadn't even visited her because he was checked into a hospital himself. He went three days after once he got released and detoxed enough claiming he had been ill, and seeing as he looked like proper shit she believed it and said she wished she could have been there to take care of _him_ and he had wanted to cry.   
Then he had actually cried when she gave him his gift.   
She had had a nurse she was especially close with bring her catalogs of local shops near by and had picked out gifts for her and Gemma and had the nurse pick them up for her.  
Harry knew her treatment was expensive though her health insurance covered most of it but she wasn't working and he wasn't excepting her to spend money on him at all. She had smiled and showed him a picture her and Gemma had taken on Christmas with the matching bracelet and earring set she got for Gemma with her birthstone color. Gemma had gotten her two pairs of silk pajamas, and she was wearing one when Harry had went, showing them off as if it was gold. 

She gave Harry the beautifully wrapped little box and he opened it slowly and carefully not wanting to ruin the wrapping she had done. She laughed and told him to stop being ridiculous and he opened the small box to find a silver airplane pendant attached to a long silver chain. Harry loved it instantly but his mum spoke deeply, taking his hand in hers and every time he looked at the necklace he could picture her warm stare.  
"You're a dreamer Harry, you always were. And you're bigger than just London and I know once you figure out what you want to do you're gonna be so great."  
Harry had wanted to cry and had been struggling not to.  
"And even if I'm not around anymore, if I can't be there to see it, you'll always have me flying around with you my love. "  
Harry lost it then, and hugged his mum so tight not ever wanting to let go and not ever wanting to admit that one day she might not be around. 

Harry was sure he hadn't taken it off since that day, until last week that is. Until he used it to help him shoot up. He felt sick, literally sick at the thought and almost didn't want to put it back on. But he had, because even though he had made that mistake he chose to ignore it (or try to) and focus on his mum and how much she and the necklace meant to him.   
Harry was sure his mum would be ecstatic at whatever he got her, even if it was just a hideous pair of socks with cats on them, even though she was allergic to cats and he didn't know what the fuck he was thinking. 

He needed to find her the perfect gift, something that made up for being such a shit son.   
He was going to stop doing drugs, he was going to find the perfect gift, he was going to be there three times a week and take pictures with her. He was going to take a bunch of pictures of his mum and with her and set them up in frames in his bedroom, like Louis had at his flat. Maybe he was even going to get a real job.   
Harry remembered last Christmas he had said to Alex "It's not fair, it's just not fair someone like her had to get sick. It's the fucking 21st century and they still don't have a bloody cure yet."  
"Well why don't you get off your lazy arse and go to uni and find a cure yourself. " Alex had laughed. "Doctor Harold Edward Styles, radiologist "  
Harry had laughed too, because at the time he had just been discharged from the hospital after flatlining from a meth overdose. He certainly was no doctor, he couldn't even take care of himself.   
But when he was still in college, and his mum had first gotten sick, he had wanted to be a doctor. He wanted to go to uni and work at the hospital she was at, and treat her himself. He wanted to be able to be up to date with every new thing, every single little link that might have been able to save her life. But then he had stopped even going to college and his dad started fucking other girls (and yea, GIRLS, because they were basically a year older than Gemma, if that) and Harry gave up on mostly everything. 

Harry walked from the bus stop back to the flat and walked in mindlessly, expecting it to be empty as Alex had left for work when he left for the hospital. 

"Oh, hey there. Good to see you're alive."  
He looked up in surprise, then guilt.  
"Hey Ef." He slumped over to her, unsure what he should do.  
"Alex told me. Everything."  
"Oh."  
He was relieved that he didn't have to.   
"But why didn't you, Harry. I could have helped."  
"Look, it doesn't matter now, okay? So can we not talk about it. It's over, no more anything. Please, let's just move on, okay?"  
He shot Effy his signature smirk that he knew she couldn't resist and she smiled back and hugged him. Harry's smile fell once it was out of her view, as his words repeated in his head. They were a hundred percent about Louis and nothing else, and he was far from happy about admitting that, even just to himself.


	10. Chapter 10

"What's up then?"  
Effy shot her head up from where it was looking down at her phone at the sound of Niall's voice.  
"Nothing just Liam." She shot a quick smile and Niall didn't seem to notice that it fell as she looked down again, putting away her phone.   
"Ah, Liam eh? When are you gonna bring us clubbin' with big brother?"  
Effy laughed, and it was almost completely genuine. A nice change of pace. "Yea, that'll be the day."  
"Yea, I know, these lads are an embarrassment! Just me, but we'll keep it on the DL."  
Effy just laughed and shook her head, only really half way paying attention to her friends.   
Everything was good with her and Harry, better than it was before even. At least that's what they both told everyone, and tried to make it seem like in front of their mates.   
But Effy could tell something was different with Harry, something had changed in him. He seemed darker, more down than ever before. He kept more to himself, didn't laugh as easily, and Effy thought she was sure he was keeping something from her. She even really had to get him to come around enough for them to have sex, and he barely wanted to even snog her-not like before. The past week Harry had taken to not even wanting to hang out, and just staying in his flat, at least that's what Effy assumed because he'd also taken to barely responding to her texts the past few days. She was getting worried. 

As far as Effy knew, Harry had stopped doing drugs, and Alex had made him stop selling (although the past few weeks he wasn't doing much good in that anyway). And she was happy about that, but there was something about Harry that just seemed so empty, like something was missing and she wasn't sure if it was just because all he had known for so long was drugs, but she hoped he would snap out of it, and see this was good. A chance to start over.

And Harry _had_ wanted to start over. He had for quite some time, just always unsure where to begin. He thought Effy was just that, a fresh start. But things get old real fast when all you ever do is get fucked up in one way or another and shag. It took Harry getting clean to realize that there was nothing else to their relationship. 

Where they had spent days and nights getting high in his bedroom and fucking, they had tried to just stay in and snog and have sex. But Harry found his libido almost nonexistent now that it wasn't fueled by meth and Effy had noted how more than not it became awkward, long silences. So Effy had taken to having them both drink excessively, with the hope of getting some spark back. But Harry was so depressed that drinking only made it worse and he'd end up just falling asleep, leaving her there to wonder why she couldn't manage to get him up, when she'd never even met a guy she had to talk into wanting her in her life. 

And Harry knew he should feel bad or feel guilty that she was clearly not happy with him, but he found he didn't. If she was unhappy, she could leave and knowing Effy like he did she would. So he just found it annoying how that's all she ever got around to doing. All her and Niall and them would do before Harry was hang around at Niall's or go out to clubs and get wasted and maybe do some drugs. That hadn't changed at all, other than the fact that if Harry was going along she made them all only stick to alcohol. But Harry was sick of alcohol, he was sick of everything. In a way, he was sick of Effy, because she reminded him of the worst parts of himself, the parts that ruined everything and everyone. He didn't want to be like that anymore, so how could be around someone so similar so often?

Harry had figured if a few things were different then Effy would ruin things. But she was beautiful and not a drug addict, and she never felt the need _to_ lie or cheat or hide things. And Harry had softened her, had broken her outer layer enough to pierce her heart and make her fall head over heels, but he couldn't see that. All he saw when he looked at Effy was running. Effy was like how he was when he was running from things, always moving. And maybe that's just how she was, maybe she wasn't running from anything but it still seemed like that to Harry. A distraction. Effy had been just that from the day he met her, a beautiful, blue eyed, totally fit ride to somewhere else. A swimmy headed, steamy kisses and sweaty body distraction. 

But Harry couldn't help but feel like he didn't want a distraction anymore, he wanted a solution. And he couldn't help but notice that he knew someone else with shining blue eyes who looked a whole lot like one. 

Harry felt bad writing Louis off the way he had. He pictured Louis' hopeful eyes and nervous smile and he felt awful imagining staining Louis' perfect complexion because of him. It started off slowly, Harry began answering less and less of Louis' innocent how are you texts. Then they began coming less frequently, and said things like "hope you're okay" and Harry felt sick knowing how much he made Louis care about him. 

He knew it was going to happen, he knew Louis would begin to fall for him. And it wasn't that Harry was conceited, or anything even remotely close, he just was observant. He knew the way that Louis was awkward and nervous and wanted to spend time with him wasn't just him being nice. Harry knew it was a crush, and perhaps he knew it even more so because he felt himself developing one for Louis too. And it just wasn't right, he had to break away and end it before it got messy. Harry was with Effy, and he was dealing with a lot and he knew he would have ended up breaking Louis, even if it was just as friends. But he decided if he had to ruin someone he would rather it be Effy, since at least she had started out like Harry had. Louis was just so brand new and clean and innocent. Effy had met Harry through their dark world, she understood it and that played a big part in why he decided it better off to stick with her and help it work out. 

Except it was far from working out. In fact, they were worse off with it all out on the open (most of it anyway) because Harry didn't have to fake smiles or hide things anymore. And Harry couldn't help how after a few days he missed little things. Little things that Louis did, and Effy didn't. Louis had told him stories and told him he was good and that he could be light if he wanted to. Effy just embraced both of their darkness and continued to hold Harry's hand and lead him further into it. And Harry had noticed how he had changed. He had become accustomed to the dark, could see ahead of him fine. But after spending time in Louis' light, going back to the dark seemed so _harsh_ and cold. It reminded Harry of death once again and he didn't want it following him anymore. He stopped doing drugs to get himself further away from it. He stopped selling so he wouldn't see anyone else dying around him or because of him. But he found nothing brought him that light that Louis had. 

But Louis was too good for him, and Harry just knew he would fuck him up in one way or another. It made Harry swallow in on himself even more, allowing himself to fall farther and farther into silent darkness. And Effy was there but Harry found he didn't really want her there. He had just wanted _someone_ there to try and fill some of the massive (Louis sized) hole that had formed inside of him over this past year. But now Harry was seeing he didn't want Effy around anymore, she was just too dark. "But so are you," he reminded himself. "You can never be with someone like Louis because you'd just burn him out." Harry envisioned Louis as a lightbulb, this massive shining light guiding everything, but Harry would be there and soon shadows would follow and then the darkness would overcome Louis and he would explode and crack and break into a million pieces of shared glass and would go dark forever, un-fixable. Harry couldn't stand to do that to him. 

And Harry had thought he was depressed before but he was sure he was worse now. There was no distraction to try and take his mind off of it, no drugs (and no Louis) and he just felt it all. He felt how his body didn't want to move when he thought of his mum being sick. He felt how his soul seemed to get darker when he thought about his family and his friends and what he had put everyone through. He felt how his mind couldn't keep processing all of his thoughts, especially when it was about Effy and Louis and choosing and breaking them, and so it just gave up. Harry spent more of his days laying in bed, feeling so dark that he couldn't even be seen, and he just layed there alone and _felt_ it all. It wasn't living, he decided. He felt like how he would imagine the world would be if it got too far away from the sun. (He ignored the fact that he thought he was the earth, and Louis was the sun and this could all be resolved if he was just around him again. But he was sure getting too close to the sun would be bad too, so he stayed away. There was no safe zone with Louis anymore and he knew that so he just ignored the fact that he even cared.)

 

Harry just sighed and rolled over stretching his arm out to the nightstand. He squinted at the harsh bright screen of his cellphone.  
12:37 AM.  
Christmas Eve.  
Louis' birthday.

Harry tried his best to forget that, to forget he even remembered Louis had mentioned that one time they were together. But he knew.  
He sighed again and rolled back over onto his side, folding in on himself and shutting his eyes as tight as he could manage to try and block everything out. Eventually his thoughts got past Louis and he drifted in a restless sleep.

Harry woke up again to a series of texts from Effy asking him to _please_ consider going to Niall's Christmas Eve party. Harry didn't need to consider it because there was no way in hell he was leaving his bedroom. Maybe he might have considered it before, if for no other reason than to keep up their happy couple facade, but having remembered what day it was he couldn't care less about anything. He wasn't even going to count on getting out of bed. 

And Harry didn't even know why it was bothering him so much. He could easily text Louis an innocent happy birthday text, but then Louis would think Harry cared again and it would start all over. Harry couldn't do that to Louis, as much as it was killing him to pretend none of it mattered. 

But why did it?

Louis was a _guy_ and Harry wasn't gay and he wouldn't date a guy. It was all just nothing, he convinced himself. He had been having a hard time and wanted a solution and Louis had been there and was so refreshing because he was so different from Harry, so he assumed Louis was his solution. That's all it was, his mind got confused. He had been fucked up almost constantly and wasn't thinking. So why, now that he was clean, was Louis still stuck in his head?

Which much convincing from Alex, Harry finally agreed to go to Niall's, on two conditions. One being if Alex went along and two being if he could leave the second he got tired without any of them giving him shit. Alex agreed and soon the two of them were out the door into the way too cold December air. They walked around the back to Alex's car and Harry looked at the street corner across from them. He remembered waiting there for Louis. He remembered the feeling he had gotten, one that was so strong he still couldn't forget it, when Louis smiled at him. Harry was mainly numb now, but he remembered how warm he had felt then, because of Louis. He had looked at Harry like he made the world spin and that made Harry feel something he couldn't quite explain, because he had never felt it before. 

He pushed all that aside as he got into the passenger seat and began mentally preparing himself to start faking smiles and laughs. He had become so good at it, but lately he hadn't cared enough to bother with trying. He could feel himself getting exhausted already. 

They pulled up to Niall's at half nine, Harry wanting to go as early as possible to have a good enough reason to leave early. He had been to visit him mum earlier, opting on buying her a necklace with two silver interlocking hearts. She had smiled at him and nearly cried gushing over it and Harry had to leave soon after that because he couldn't handle it. His mum had offered to give him his gift even though she hadn't wrapped it yet but Harry insisted he waited and would be back on Christmas day. He hadn't wanted her to get him anything. Nothing would mean as much to him as the necklace which he hadn't taken off again.

They walked in and said hi to everyone and Harry needed a cigarette already. He ignored the fact that he had basically substituted one addiction for another, as he was somewhere near a pack a day at that point. Harry lit his cigarette and looked around for Effy, who he found talking with Niall and Jane, drinking already. Harry sighed and found himself getting quite annoyed with her, and how that was all she had taken to doing lately. He assumed it wouldn't be long now until she was plastered trying to fuck him again, and he was sure he wasn't in the mood to play along. 

Harry got himself a drink and sipped at it for far too long, pretended to pay attention to what was going on around him. But he found himself unable to focus on Niall's story as his eyes began to focus out the window, and his mind drifted again to the one place he willed it not to go.

It had been nearly two hours and Harry was drunker than he had intended on getting. He wasn't enjoying himself but he found he was in a nice little drunken bubble which made it easier to play along. Alex kept coming around to check on him and was just relieved that he hadn't locked himself alone somewhere and told him he was proud of him, and it made Harry cringe to think that there was actually something that wrong with him. It had been a few minutes since Effy had come over to him, stumbling into his body and slurring things that he assumed were meant to turn him on, but didn't. He finished his drink and looked around the room until he spotted her, stepping into Niall's bedroom which someone tall and dark haired. Harry found that he honestly didn't even care that she was going to fuck Zayn, with him and everyone who knew they were together right there. At least then maybe she would back off and leave him alone. It did, however, give him the fuel to do something else.

_Ring, ring.._  
" 'Ello." That didn't sound like the right voice to Harry.   
"...hello?"  
"Yea."  
"I..who's this?"  
"Nick, who's this?"  
Harry was too drunk for this to make sense to him.   
"It's Harry. I, I thought I called Louis."  
"You did, he's not available right now. Why did you block your number, Styles?"  
"I..uh,well, would Louis, or you I guess, have answered if you saw it was me?"  
Nick snickered. "Dunno Harry. I probably wouldn't have answered at all if a caller ID had come up, regardless of who it was. I only answered 'cos I thought it may have been important."  
"Oh..I see..would, would he have answered?"  
"I don't know Harry, would you have ignored him again?"  
"I don't know."   
"Harry, what are you doing here?"  
"I don't know. I..I wanted to wish him happy birthday.."  
"His birthday's nearly over, did you have to get drunk first to be able to call? Because I can tell you Lou's not a fan of that."  
"No, I'm..not..it's..""Yes?"  
"..can I, can I talk to him?"  
"He's not available, as I said."  
"Well what does that mean?" Harry was getting impatient.  
"What does this call mean, Harry?"  
"What..what the fuck.." Harry wasn't sure what Nick was trying to get out of him. He just wanted to talk to Louis, to tell him he hoped he had a good birthday day and maybe tell him he thought he was the sun of his world. That was all.  
"It means I want to see him..and tell him something." And Harry couldn't figure out why he had said that but then Nick was speaking again.  
"He's in the shower, we're going out for his birthday. Meet us."   
Harry glanced once again at the bedroom door Effy was behind as he heard Nick tell him where he and Louis were going. He agreed and hung up and all but ran over to find Alex.

"I need to go..uh, Gem, Gemma wants to like get my opinion on a gift for mum," he had told him and Alex offered to leave too, to go with him, to drive him but Harry declined it all.   
He walked out into the cold air and suddenly wished he was either a little more sober or a little more drunk because he was going to tell Louis he loves him. 

Harry opted to walk the whole way into the center of London, because it gave him time to think and gave Louis and Nick time to get there first. It was cold, but not freezing and most of last week's snow was gone so he found he didn't care much. The closer he got, the more he felt himself begin to panic because he hadn't seen Louis in so long, and even more importantly what if Louis proper hated him now and would just yell at him and tell him to leave?

He got inside and closed his eyes hard and his heart began to pound in his chest. He opened them and walked cautiously forward, not sure if he was hoping for them to be there and see him and call him over, and for them to be nowhere in sight so Harry would have an excuse to just turn right around and leave before something bad had the opportunity to happen. He made his way over to the bar and ordered a drink to try and settle his nerves. Harry checked his phone and noted it been nearly 45 minutes, plenty of time for them to have arrived. He finally collected himself enough to go through the crowd in search of them. 

He glanced around, laughing at himself now that his nerves had settled, because what had he been so nervous about?

He pushed through a small group of loud young girls and his eyes locked on Louis instantly. He was leaning against the wall, turned towards someone, laughing. Harry watched the way his face lit up as he spoke and laughed more and then he turned his head and his eyes caught on Harry's. And for just a split second there, Louis was smiling at Harry again and he felt the warmth again. But then he saw Louis mouth what was unmistakably "What the fuck," and Harry could feel himself get hit with a cold wind. 

Harry just stood there, unsure of what he should do. He saw Nick touch Louis on the shoulder and say something to him before he went over to Harry.   
" 's fine, come on."  
Harry was sure it didn't seem fine. Louis had been bright and shining and smiling and then he had seen Harry and already went dull. 

But Harry followed Nick over to Louis. He just stood there looking at him, saying nothing and Louis did the same.   
"Well, hello, Harry!" Nick tried to start a conversation.   
"Louis."  
It was all Harry found he could ever manage to say.   
"Harry..what, what are you.."  
"Wanted to see you."  
"I..you did?" Louis seemed utterly shocked and Harry found he wanted to kiss the stupid look off Louis' face.  
"Course I did."  
"I don't really think it's that obvious Harry."  
And Harry knew Louis didn't even have to say anymore.   
"I'm gonna go..get another drink.." Nick said leaving them alone.

"I'm sorry Louis."  
"You don't have to be sorry, Harry-"  
"No, I do. I am. Just, let me finish."  
He waited for Louis' nod of approval.   
"I..I just, well, I.." Harry struggled to find the words to describe it, because really he didn't know them. "I just, fucking..I miss you Louis. You were the only source of light for me and now everything just seems too dark.."

Harry was sure that was good enough but Louis just stared at him, not understanding and Harry thought he might as well give up because that was the best he could do. 

"Let's go outside, yea? Too hard to hear in this place."  
Harry just stared and then followed Louis through the crowd and out the door. They walked a few steps away until Louis stopped and turned to Harry suddenly. "What the fuck are you on about Harry?"Harry just stared at Louis' intent eyes, eye brows furiously furrowing. Harry found himself suddenly smirking uncontrollably and a manic giggle erupted from his mouth, startling them both. 

"What the fuck is going on..are you, are you fucking high Harry?"  
"No! No, Louis I'm clean. I have been since..."  
Harry drifted off looked away, ashamed in thinking about how he had left Louis that day to go do fucking heroin, of all things. He still couldn't believe that it had happened, but he was done running from things. If whatever the fuck he was feeling for Louis was enough to make him do _that_ than he figured it mattered enough to at least tell Louis. Because at that point, what really did he have to lose?

"Oh, well that's good, Harry." Louis gave him a weak smile, like he only half way cared, but he looked at Harry different then. Louis' eyes were so expressive and Harry saw them soften at the realization that he wasn't just on something and wanting a shag. 

"Louis, I..."   
Harry suddenly found he had a million things to say to Louis. He wanted to tell him everything, explain it all and make Louis understand. He didn't want to hide things and anymore or be fake, he wanted to try something he had never tried before - be open. Harry had never been able to lay all his cards out for anyone, and maybe it was because he never had a solid best mate growing up, but he found even still, even with Alex who knew the darkest parts of him he held back. But there was something in Louis' eyes that made Harry feel like he could tell Louis anything and everything and they made him want to.   
"I'm sorry, for everything Louis. I really am. I, I'd like to explain the whole thing to you, so it makes sense and whatnot, like if you even care enough to know. I mean, you were so kind to me and I sorta fucked you over and I'd just to explain how I'm not just a massive prick. But not now- on your birthday and all I mean..that's why, I uh, that's why I wanted to talk to you.."  
Louis just watched Harry rambling nervously, and Harry was too nervous to notice the smirk form, ever so slightly on Louis' lips. 

"I just..wanted to make sure you had a good birthday and Christmas..and..tell you I'm sorry and that I didn't mean to make you hate me..and, fuck. I'm making like no fucking sense, but I swear to God, Louis I'm not even fucked up at all, this is..this is real."  
And Harry knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he meant his feelings. Whatever he was feeling towards Louis was just too strong to ignore, and they didn't go away and he assumed they wouldn't. They were real.

"I don't hate you, Harry. I knew you were..in a rough spot when I first met you. I'm glad you're sober.'

Harry watched Louis' eyes crinkle up as he smiled at him and Harry felt a heat rising inside of him at the sight alone. 

"You're so...God, Louis you're so.."   
But Harry didn't have the words so he just lunged forward into Louis, his hands touching him. He stared down into his face, probably a bit too close, but he figured there was no use going back. He leaned in slower, meaningfully pressing his lips in Louis' and God, Harry just knew it felt so _right._ Louis tasted like heaven to Harry and he kept kissing him, and Louis kissed back. And once Harry realized he was okay with it he took his hands off Louis' shoulders and moved them onto his waist. Louis responded by weaving his fingers into Harry's curls and Harry was sure that time had frozen, and there was nothing else but Harry and Louis intertwined in each other, limbs and lips wrapped tight with passion. 

They kissed slowly and gently and it wasn't anything Harry was used to. He was used to forceful lips locking with intent. He had never kissed anyone that way, because he had never just wanted to _kiss_ anyone. He smiled against Louis' lips, unable and uncaring that he could no longer hide it. 

When they finally separated, they stayed close in each other, both smiling. Harry in an almost manic looking smirk, overpowering his entire face and Louis just looking up at him so fondly. They could both feel that were so many questions unanswered between them, but neither one of them cared enough at that point to say anything. 

"Well, I, uh..I should get going.."  
"Or you can walk me home."  
Harry looked at him like it was the last thing in the world he expected to hear, because really it was.  
"Nick drove here so.."  
Harry knew he probably agreed too quickly when he saw Louis smirk back at him again. He watched Louis walk away into the club to tell Nick he was leaving. Harry found his mind couldn't even keep up with what was happening. But before he had time to really figure it out, Louis was walking back out slipping into a coat and smiling at Harry again.   
"Let's get going then, yea?"

Harry still couldn't get used to how easy it was to be around Louis. He talked almost the entire time back to his flat, leaving no room for awkward silences that Harry had gotten so used to (with his **girlfriend**.) Harry was amazed really at the way Louis was so pleasant. He had such a nice speaking voice and it was a good thing because he barely let Harry get in a word, not that he minded at all. Harry could listen to Louis talk forever, he decided.   
"Here we are then," he heard him say.

"Well come on then, don't just stand there. In you go." And Harry laughed lightly at the way Louis pulled him by the arm into the flat and shut the entire world out with the door.

~

Harry was walking home when he decided to check his phone. He had a voicemail from Effy. 

"Hey, where the fuck did you go? I thought things were a bit awkward with Zayn there so I went and told him as nicely as I could that he should probably go, and give us some space without him giving you looks every five minutes...Well I don't know, I just hope you're okay, and he didn't really get to you or anything. I just wanted us to have a laugh, wanted _you_ to laugh, Harry. Well call me when you wake tomorrow, we can do breakfast or lunch or dinner, whatever's better. Bye."

And shit, Harry thought. He had made a big fucking mistake. 

Effy hadn't gone to fuck Zayn, she was trying to help Harry have a better time. He hadn't even noticed if Zayn was looking at him like anything, but she had and was just trying to help. That's all she _had_ been trying to do the whole time, was help Harry. Looking back it then, (after spending the night with Louis) Harry saw the situation differently. Maybe Effy had been trying to help all along, and Harry had been exaggerating, while he was detoxing and coming off of everything (including Louis), thinking she was being annoying and excessive. But in reality, she was just dealing with dating a drug addict. 

Harry felt a massive sinking feeling in his stomach when he realized he may have massively fucked everything up in just a couple hours.


	11. Chapter 11

The last thing Harry wanted to do was go back to the flat and face reality. The time he had spent with Louis was so good that Harry almost forgot what a mess he had made his life into. They talked and they laughed and Harry wasn't sad then and he didn't have an answer as to why he was only able to feel that way around Louis. Harry felt so disillusioned. He felt like he had just been temporarily insane the past couple weeks and his mind had made things seem how they weren't and he wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't anymore. He had fucked up. And now he was so overwhelmed with guilt and confusion and just a shitload of emotions he had never learned how to deal with. So then Harry thought, he really just wanted to get fucked up. So he continued walking back to his flat, his mood deflating more with each step. 

By the time he got back, Harry had half a mind to just turn around and keep walking somewhere else and ignore everyone. But it was Christmas and that meant something, even if it hadn't seemed to mean the same things to him the past couple years.   
"Harry! You're okay? Everything's okay?" Harry tried to pretend that Alex still wasn't treating him like he would snap any minute. He tried to ignore that Alex had seen it happen first hand about a dozen times. He ignored that he was half a second away from it happening again right then.  
"Yea, 'm good. Sorry. Things got late and we just fell asleep." Technically, Harry thought, it was almost true. Things had gotten late and he had fallen asleep. Just not with Gemma.  
"Oh well good, that's good. How's Gemma?"  
"Um, better. She's good, yea." Harry took his jacket off and threw it on the sofa.  
"Merry Christmas," he tried, changing the subject with a forced smile.

He and Alex had tea, and although they had both agreed not to do gifts that year, they both had small things for each other anyway. Alex had gotten him a rather large, nice looking journal that he thought would help Harry deal with his emotions and such. He had felt awkward giving it to him, but Harry genuinely loved it and wondered why he hadn't thought of that himself, as for a while before all the drugs, Harry had been quite fond of writing. He had only gotten Alex a lousy key chain with a pocketknife and a bottle opener attached, but Alex seemed to love it nonetheless. After they finished their tea, Harry went to shower, prolonging it as much as he could before he knew he would have to call Effy.   
He wondered why it even bothered him so much, why it got him so worked up knowing he would have to lie to her again, because really he should have been used to it by that point. He shot her a quick text saying he was going to visit his mum and that she could come over later that night and he even offered to cook. He ignored the fact that he knew it would be awkward, mostly for him. He ignored the fact that for a brief moment, he wished he was having Christmas dinner with someone else.  
Harry thought maybe if he just kept telling everyone he had been with his sister, that it would become true, and he would believe it as well. In reality Harry had no fucking idea how Gemma was because he hasn't talked to her in at least a week. But he ignored that and went to wait for the bus to the hospital. 

It was a good visit, his mum was in a cheery mood and wasn't feeling too shit. They talked and laughed about past Christmases when Harry was little, when things were still good. Usually reminiscing like that would upset Harry and make him want to use, but it was nice to just talk with his mum. She handed him a flawlessly wrapped box with little santa's all over a green background. Harry noted how the Santa'a had wrinkles by their eyes from smiling and it reminded him of Louis. But Harry just ignored that and unwrapped the box to find a really nice watch with a black leather band.   
"I know you kids these days don't need watches much but I thought it would be nice to, keep you grounded Haz. Sometimes it's just nice to be reminded of the basics and not let everything fly by," and Harry fucking loved it and wondered how his mum always made it to get the most meaningful gifts even when you wouldn't think they would be.   
He didn't cry that time, he smiled. A real, genuine smile and they laughed and talked and he wore the watch straight away and looked at it fondly, watching the hands tick away as he sat on the bus back to the flat. Harry was having the best day in a long time. He was happy, almost, or as close as he had been for weeks. He felt calm, grounded. His mum was right, watching the hands tick around reminded Harry that every second was worth something. 

~  
He got back and opted for starting to cook some pasta, because they really didn't have much else in the flat. Harry found himself with a slight smile stuck on his face the entire time he cooked. He was relaxed almost, like his foundation wasn't threatening to give way beneath him any second. He wasn't sure why because try as he did he was far from oblivious to the state of things.

Harry greeted Effy with a smile and a hug and she smiled back and they kissed, gently. (And Harry did not see a flash of Louis in front of his eyes as he pulled away.) They had almost finished their meal when Harry grew utterly sick of the small talk and the guilt and decided they probably needed to address the night before.  
"Um, look..about last night.." He had to look away from her. He hid it by pretending to pick at this plate. "I just uh my sister called me..she wanted some help with a gift for my mum and all that, and I, uh, I didn't see you around so..I just left.."   
Apparently Harry didn't sound convincing enough. Apparently Effy, though, didn't think he was lying. She thought he was accusing her of it.   
"Oh God, Harry. I didn't..did you see me go in Ni's bedroom with Zayn? Nothing happened, nothing at all. I mean I know I occasionally fucked him before, but that was before us. I really just wanted to sort him out for being a twat towards you."  
Harry looked up and met her eyes. They were begging, hoping with everything they had for him to believe her, and he did. Somehow it just made Harry feel worse. 

They were sitting on the sofa rather awkwardly when they decided to exchange gifts. Harry wasn't sure what he should get Effy so in the end he ended up seeing this silver skull chained bracelet that he thought looked like her. Effy had gotten him the smallest Christmas tree that he was sure existed. It was about maybe the size of a table lamp and Harry laughed fondly as he watched her turn on something underneath it that made a small amount of little lights begin to shine on it.   
"Don't laugh, wanker." She laughed as she pulled out a small box. "Okay here, open," she handed it to him.   
Harry looked confused but opened it and found two tiny ornaments. They were hand painted, by Effy. One with Harry's name and a cartoon with a mass of curly hair and big green eyes smiling wide on the opposite side. The other said "My First X-Mas."  
Effy watched him intently, trying to read his face. Harry just stared at the tree, his guilt increasing with every blink of his eyes.  
"You needed a proper tree, some sort of tradition to make it Christmas. And it can't be Christmas without a tree."  
And Harry couldn't take how fucking thoughtful it was.

Harry had forbid Alex to put up a tree because Christmas had become a day for Harry to visit his mum, ignore a text from Dean and get massively fucked up,because the only family tradition they had left was for Dean to fuck a new girl every holiday since his mum went into inpatient. But this was different, this was a new tradition. It was him, in his new life, sober on Christmas and not hating it. It was him, with his loving girlfriend, who had dealt with more shit from him than any person should, but was still trying to look out for him. Harry had the best mate he could ask for as a roommate, and who also looked after him and was there to pull him back in when he started drifting. He had new friends, actual friends, and he wasn't dealing drugs anymore. He had every opportunity in front of him then to start a new life, a real life, and be anything he wanted.   
So why did it make Harry feel so awful?

~  
Harry said he was feeling rather tired having got up early and Effy went home and Alex texted him to check on him from his parents and Harry was okay. He was sober and he wasn't going to get high, or even get drunk. He was just going to just watch the rest of Home Alone and then go to sleep.   
Except that's not what ended up happening. 

"Hello?"  
"Hey baby, miss me?"  
"Harry? Is everything okay?"  
"For once everything is mostly okay," Harry laughed.  
"Harry..."  
"Yes dear?"  
"..are you high, Harry?"  
And yes, Harry was high as all fuck. And he swore that he really tried to just write in his new journal and watch TV, he really had. But Home Alone went off and then some family holiday movie came on and it was all things Harry didn't have; a real family, a solid functional family, a normal drama free relationship. And he would pretend it didn't matter as much as it did, but really it killed Harry to not have a solid family. So he had gone and searched for a ridiculously long time to find where Alex had moved the stash, and he had to give it to him really, because if Harry hadn't spent nearly an hour and fifteen minutes looking he never would have found it in an old backpack in the very back of Alex's closet. So he had taken a couple pills and done a couple lines of something or other and it had been so long and he was fucking soaring. 

"I want to get high on you babe."   
And maybe it would have sounded cheeky if he wasn't high but he was off his ass and it sounded just messy. He heard a long sigh on the other end.   
"Where are you, Harry?"  
"I'm somewhere in between..where things were, and..where they could have been..but now aren't.."  
"Harry. Are you alone? Who's with you?"  
"Well I've got this nice cheery bloke here smiling at me.." Harry said looking at the ornament hanging on the small Christmas tree, choking down his guilt once again. "But he isn't much of a talker. Plus I like your voice better."  
"Harry what have you taken?"  
But Harry couldn't focus on what the voice was saying because the feeling of his dick growing in his pants at the voice alone was a bit too distracting.  
"I want to fuck the absolute shit out of you. Fuck you so hard and just keep fucking you.."  
"Harry. I need you to answer me."  
" 'm answering you Louis. I'd always answer you."  
"Harry..where are you?"  
" 'm 'bout to go..for a walk.."  
"No, Harry. Listen to me, stay put alright? Are you home?"  
Harry laughed. His mind was swimming and his head felt heavy and he slid off the sofa and onto the floor.  
"I haven't called anything home since I was 12."  
He heard Louis start to speak but he interrupted him. "Want to see you tho Louis."  
"Harry, I'll come. Okay? You're home?"  
"Louis just come..just be here..I feel..I need you.."

Harry felt light, too light. He felt like he was losing consciousness and he just wanted to see Louis' bright eyes one last time, since he figured that was it for him. Death had finally caught up and he would be damned if he didn't get to see Louis' eyes one last time.   
"Harry? Just, shit. I'll be there in a couple minutes just, hang on."

Louis hung up and Harry kept mumbling things into the phone until he heard a knock on his door. All Harry saw was black, and he thought it was someone knocking on his coffin. Probably Alex, he thought.   
"I'd offer to let you in but I don't think you'd fit.."  
"Harry? Are you in there?"  
Louis tried the door and found it unlocked, to his relief. He found Harry laying on the floor in front of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling with barely open, fucked up looking eyes.   
"Harry! What the fuck- are you- Harry get up, come on."  
Louis pulled Harry up into the couch and when Harry's eyes were able to focus on Louis' worried ones he smiled before shutting them once again.   
"Louis. You came."  
"Of course I came. Harry, I need you to tell me what you took, and how much. Okay? Can you do that?"  
"Your eyes..I just. I wanted to see them.."  
"Fucking shit Harry."  
"Louis.."  
"I thought you said you were clean. Fuck, Harry what happened?"  
But Harry wasn't answering Louis, and Louis was panicking.  
"You're..beautiful, Louis.."  
"Goddamn it, what did you fucking take Harry? What the fuck did you take?" Louis could see Harry falling deeper into whatever he was in, and he was getting frantic, his hand already on his phone ready to call an ambulance.   
"Uh, fuck if I know.."  
"Harry. What did you take."  
"Some-uh, some pills..railed some shit.."  
"Fucking shit," Louis mumbled looking away from Harry to his phone screen. 

But then Harry shot up and fell onto the spot he had previously been laying and threw up all under the coffee table.   
Louis had jumped up when Harry began to fall and he was just stood there, staring unknowingly as Harry just slumped back against the couch and began mumbling things that just sounded like "fuck, fuck" as he rubbed at his head. 

~  
Louis walked back into the room holding a cup of tea out to Harry.   
"Your mate said he's gonna have your balls, in one way or another. Also said he'd be able to tell exactly what and how much of everything you took, so you might as well just tell us- well him, at least."  
Harry took the tea and looked down. He had let Alex down so many times but it never got any easier. He looked up at Louis, just for a second, and saw intent worried eyes watching his every movement. Harry decided disappointing Louis was worse.  
"I don't know, okay? I just took a couple pills and then got fucked up and just snorted some shit, 'cos like, fuck, I dunno. And I don't know what it was,I wasn't thinking."  
Harry still was feeling out of it, but it wasn't nearly enough to mask any of the many thought that were flooding his mind. The only distraction he had was the constant, unrelenting shaking his body had taken up.   
"Just go Louis, okay? 'M sorry,alright? I shouldn't have called you. Just go."  
Harry turned away from Louis and willed him to leave.   
"Seriously Louis, I feel like shit, okay? I'm not gonna do anything else, I'm gonna fucking sleep this off. So you don't have to watch me anymore."   
And maybe he was being bitchy but he didn't want to do this to Louis and he wanted him gone. He heard Louis sigh and say to call him if he needed anything and he heard louis close the door to the flat.   
Harry was sick of doing that, of fucking everything up. As much as he wanted to be with Louis he couldn't be, because he would always fuck it up like he just had. He ruined Louis' Christmas and made him rush over and take care of him and he had led him on on his birthday. He had stayed over and he had talked and laughed with Louis. Harry had kissed Louis and he had let Louis suck him off and then he had given Louis a handjob. He had kissed Louis more and then they had fallen asleep together in Louis' bed. And fucking shit that all just wasn't okay for him to do.

And then he had went and pretended he was a good son. He lied to everyone that he was being a good brother when really he was being a shit boyfriend. And then he had spent a quiet night with his unsuspecting girlfriend, and she had been loving and gentle and tried to be there for him because he had been intolerably depressed. Too depressed to kiss or snog or do anything that he had done with ease to Louis the night before.   
He knew Alex would come back tomorrow and have his ass and he would be watched and checked on every other second again. And Harry couldn't take that.   
Unless, he thought. Unless he had an alternative.   
He fell Into a sleep against his will, mind still heavy with opiods. Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow I'll do it. 

~  
The second Harry felt himself waking up, he shot up, willing himself to hurry and praying Alex wasn't back yet. He found the flat to be quiet so he assumed it was his lucky day, by some miracle he had woken up early enough. Right at the same moment, he heard his phone begin vibrating on the table, like some higher power had willed him awake just to get that call.  
"Hello."  
"Hey did you get my texts?"  
"Uh, no guess they didn't come through." Another lie, he thought.   
"Oh well we're all going out, was just about to text Alex and see if you two want to come?"  
Harry pulled the phone away to check the time. Almost 10 pm. He wasn't early he was late.  
"Uh, Alex cant. He's still at his parents'. I will though."  
"Oh cool, so we're gonna go in like an hour, want us to pick you up?"  
"Uh, no. It's, I'll meet you."  
"Okay, cool. Well see you in a bit, love you."  
And Harry was just glad that Effy started talking to someone in the background and didn't notice how he hung up without saying it back.

Harry knew that wherever Alex was, he would most likely be back soon. So Harry got in the shower and left the flat as fast as he could. He walked three blocks down, then made his way parallel to the street their flat was on, the street he knew Alex would use because it was on the same side as the carpark. And he felt guilty going through all of that trouble to avoid Alex, when he knew he was probably in a mad rush to make sure Harry was okay. 

So Harry just walked. He felt his stomach growl but he ignored it, the growling in his mind seeming more ferocious. He found himself outside of Smith's faster than he had in mind, and decided to just go in anyway.   
They were only lightly inhabited, the crowds just beginning to roll in, so Harry took a seat at the very end of the bar and ordered a beer.   
He wasn't sure how long he had been there but he felt his legs going numb so he hopped off the barstool on unsteady legs and crashed right into an all too familiar body. 

"Harry?"  
Harry felt sick at the way Louis only sounded half way surprised to see him there. He wished he hadn't gone, because maybe it would have been easier to apologize and convince Louis he wasn't just this hopeless junkie who couldn't ever bare to be sober.  
"Hey Louis.." Hary rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Look, I'm really sorry-"  
" 's fine, Harry."  
Their eyes met and Harry felt his stomach flop.  
"I didn't have to come, so it's fine." Harry wasn't understanding. "How are you feeling?"   
Harry saw Louis' eyes glance over to the empty glass in front of where Harry had been sitting.  
"Uh, 'm fine. A bit like tired, is all."  
Louis nodded. God, Harry thought. Could this be any more awkward?  
"Right, right."  
"Um, can I like, buy you a drink?"  
"Uh, well actually," Louis picked up the two drinks set in front of him at the bar. "I'm on a date actually.."  
And shit.   
"Oh..uh, right then.." Harry couldn't even hide how awkward it was.  
"Yea uh, Nick set this whole double date thing up.."  
"Oh..cool.."

The two of them just stood there in awkward silence.   
"Right then," Louis said after ages, breaking the silence. "I should get back."  
"Right, yea. See you Louis."

Harry got himself another drink and wandered away from the bar in the opposite direction of Louis. He didn't want to see Louis on his date, having a laugh with someone was actually good for him. He didn't want to see Effy either, although he was sure they must've been there already. So he decided to finish his drink and go outside for a smoke.   
Harry made his way back around the block after his fourth cigarette and reluctantly went back into the bar.   
What he didn't expect was to see Louis sitting at the bar alone.  
So of course he had to nonchalantly go back over. 

"Oh, Harry, you're still here." It sounded like a sad observation but Harry decided it had nothing to do with him when he looked over at Louis.  
"Uh, yea. And you're..alone?"  
He sat down.   
"Uh, yea funny thing," Louis looked up at him and laughed slightly. "Apparently my date was more into Nick's date than me. Somehow Nick ended up convincing them into some sort of sick threesome and they all took off, and obviously I wasn't jumping to get back into that cab home."  
Harry wasn't sure what to say. He was never any good at knowing how to comfort people.   
"What about you then? What are you doing here alone Harry?"  
Shit, he should probably go look for Effy, or at least check his phone.   
"Uh, just didn't feel much like being around people. But I didn't want to be alone either so.." It wasn't a lie. Louis just nodded in understanding.   
"So, um.." Harry began, awkward and unsure. "Can I buy you that drink then?"  
Louis looked at him warily, and he didn't even have to speak for Harry to know he was thinking that was a total shit idea.   
"No, Harry. You can't."  
And Harry was a bit taken aback at that, but Louis began speaking again before he even had time to react.  
"But since you're so bloody good at getting yourself fucked up maybe you could give me some tips."

Harry looked at Louis with something that could only be described as complete and total confusion. But then he saw Louis smirk and look down and finish his drink.   
"Think I'm just gonna get going actually. But Harry.."  
Louis sighed and looked down at his hands folded on the bar counter, choosing his words. "Look. I know I'm no one to you-"  
"You are someone to me, Louis."   
They both looked up, surprised at Harry's words and their eyes met in a lingering stare.  
"Right..well I just, I don't know why you started getting high again but, Harry you just..you need to fucking be careful. I don't know why you have a sodding death wish but seriously, just..be careful.."  
Harry found it sickly ironic how Louis' words made him want to go get high. Or maybe it was the way his stomach was fluttering uncontrollably and the way he could literally feel his mind go numb every time he was around Louis. 

Their eyes met again and the stare lingered even longer this time. Harry thought maybe he brain was just frying but he felt some kind of heat there that he couldn't explain.   
"I, uh.." Louis began, attempting to break their trances on each other, but eyes never leaving Harry's. "I'm gonna, uh..," he said pointing over to the bathrooms, before finally getting up and walking away.   
Harry wasn't sure if that was an invitation, but he took it as one. 

And when he pushed open the door to the bathroom and found Louis' big blue hungry eyes looking up at him he didn't question it again.  
And when he found his lips connected to Louis', pulling at them and tasting them, he didn't think about it being wrong.  
When Louis backed them into the stall and closed the door, without their lips ever breaking apart, Harry couldn't even hear his voice of reason.  
Harry wondered, briefly, if that was wrong; if he should stop it.   
But when he found Louis' hands below his waist, he thought maybe he shouldn't.   
And when Louis had his entire dick inside of his mouth Harry told that voice to shut the fuck up and not come back, and if it did he didn't notice.

Harry swore Louis' tongue was working magic, because really just how in the fuck could he make it feel _that_ good?   
Harry had gotten head plenty of times in his life, but when it was from Louis it was different, in the very best way. Harry would decide later on (when he had time to focus on something other than not coming in two fucking seconds) that maybe it was because Louis was also a guy, and knew how it felt and so knew what to do in a way that even the most experience cock sucking girl just couldn't have a way of knowing.  
Harry didn't care about anything else except that Louis' lips felt like they were made solely to kiss his own and the way he sucked on his cock so smoothly, seemingly without fault, was enough distraction from his doubts.  
Harry came hard, watching Louis' eyes stare up at him and Harry was on his knees taking Louis' fully erect dick into his mouth. It should have been awkward, it should have felt weird and foreign to Harry because he had never sucked anyone off before, but all he could see was Louis, Louis, Louis. After it was all over, Harry couldn't shake the feeling he had, like he was high (and of all people he knew the feeling too well). He wasn't stupid, he knew all about post orgasm feelings, and while yes, they are pleasant, it never came close to an actual drug induced high. With any of the girls he had fucked or gotten head from, or even the times he had hooked up with Louis, it never felt like that had. And if Harry was aware that maybe what he was feeling was the aftermath of having shared that orgasm with someone he was quite possibly more than a little in love with, he ignored it. And when he looked over at Louis, leaning against the wall of the stall, panting and sweating, hair disheveled and smirk forming as he looked at Harry, he ignored that he felt such strong, screaming things toward Louis. 

They just looked at each other, smiling, but nothing had to be said. They both knew, they both felt it, even though they wouldn't admit it out loud or even fathom that they other would understand, let alone feel the same way. So they left the bathroom together, still giddy, Harry following Louis out, touching his shoulder as he laughed. 

"Harry!"He turned around to see Niall and Jane standing there.  
"Where've you been, Eff's been looking for you?"  
Harry froze as he watched their eyes linger to where his hand was still placed on Louis.  
He turned from them to Louis back to them, back to Louis, not knowing what to do.   
"Uh.."  
Shit, he thought. Effy was going to come over and be able to read his "I just got off" look and his red lips and his messy hair, and then she was going to know. They all would.   
He turned back to Louis.   
"Uh, sorry again, man..about spilling that drink on you.."  
Louis looked at him, part confused but part understanding. A bigger part disappointed. He managed a small smile and hit Harry on the shoulder with a " 's alright" and walked away wondering how he always got to falling for people that didn't want him.   
Harry tried to hide his own faltering smile as he walked back with Niall and Jane and tried to pretend he hadn't noticed the look Louis had had. 

And Harry stayed for a while, as long as he could manage to fake it. He smiled and laughed and had some drinks and kissed Effy, but only when she kissed him. He didn't want the taste of Louis to fade away, or worse be replaced, but with everyone there he had to play along. 

When it all became too much, Harry left and started walking back. He didn't know what he was thinking, but he found his phone pressed against his ear singing Louis' number. But when it went to voice-mail, he decided it was all too much. He thought it wasn't fair and it wasn't alright and he wasn't alright. So instead of going back to the flat he made his way, eventually, to the seediest part of London. 

Harry bought a bag from some bloke who looked like he couldn't be trusted with anything at all and went a few blocks over to the empty lot. He moved a dirty crate over some to give himself a place to sit and be alone and checked his phone for Louis.  
His heart jumped at the sight of a voice-mail and he dialed it before even checking his missed calls. 

"You, where the FUCK are you?! Oxy AND smack, are you fucking serious Harry? Are you trying to fucking kill yourself?"

Harry just hung up and tried Louis' number one last time because maybe secretly he wanted to hear Louis and have him talk him out of getting high and have him say "I'll come pick you up Haz, you don't need that anymore 'cos you have me."  
But It went to voice-mail again and Harry just turned his phone all the way off. He didn't have Louis, he was losing Alex, he would eventually lose his mum, he had already lost his sister and he was bound to lose Effy soon too. He couldn't go to any of them, he had used up all his chances and he knew it. So he did need the bag, he did need to get high.   
He thought of Alex's voice-mail again as he burned the substance on the spoon.  
He brought the needle up and stared at it. Yes, he thought, as he stuck it into his arm, not caring how much he took or who was around to see him doing that out in the open.   
"Yes, I'm trying to fucking kill myself," he said to no one but his own conscious as his head lulled back.


	12. Chapter 12

Louis woke up to his phone ringing, and in his tired state he answered without checking who it was first.  
"M, hello?"  
"L-louiss.."  
"Huh? Harry?"  
"Louis..I..fuck..I fucked up."  
"What's going on harry?"  
Louis had gotten too used to talking to harry in an incoherent state which he clearly was in then.  
"Louis..please..Lou..Louis"  
"What harry?"  
Louis couldn't help but feel annoyed how Harry only ever bothered with him when no one was around or when he was high.  
"I need-I need you..please"  
"What?"  
"I n-need..i dunno how..train-the old..the train,spot..I can't, I can't see.."  
"Harry? Are you okay?"  
Louis didn't hear anything. Shit. "Harry?"  
"I dont..there's no one..Please..I take it-I take it back..all of it..I don't want to..just want..you.."  
Louis was out the door and in his care before he had even figured out what time it was.

Louis sat in the waiting room of the hospital with his head in his hands. All he kept seeing was Harry's shaking body on the ground. He figured he had gotten there within seconds of enough time to call the ambulance before it was too late. Then again, he had been waiting in that chair for so fucking long his arse was numb and he still didn't know how Harry was. 

"Mr. Tomlinson? You can come in.."  
Louis didn't even hear what the doctor said after that, he just followed him frantically to Harry's room.  
Louis didn't like seeing Harry lay in the hospital bed. He was almost as pale as the white sheets and Louis couldn't tell if he was sad that Harry was there or if he was disappointed or if he felt guilty that maybe he had caused it by not answering Harry's first calls.  
He figured it was some fucked up combination of them all.  
"Louis?"  
"Yea, yea Harry I'm here. "  
"Louis, I - " Harry started to cough, his voice dry and hoarse and Louis told him it was alright and went to get him some water.  
When he finally got back, he stopped when he heard voices coming from Harry's room.  
"Harry? We're here- Alex and me."  
"Louis?"  
"No, Harry, it's me. Effy."  
Effy, Louis thought. Harry's girlfriend. He didn't belong there, she did. He turned and walked away, his head hanging low and sad.  
"W-where's Louis.." "Louis? What're you talking about Harry?"  
"I..I need to tell him.."  
"Who the fuck is-" "Tell him what, Haz?" Alex interrupted.  
"That I, that I love-"  
"Ah, Mr. Styles. Feeling better? Here we go then, some more fluids for you dear."

"Is he, alright?" Effy asked the nurse. "He keeps talking like he can' even hear us."  
"Oh don't worry love, he'll be just fine. He's a bit dehydrated yea but he's lucky that bloke found him when he did. Just in time."

Louis found himself getting angry, because why the fuck had Harry called him and not her?  
Louis had been wandering through the hospital hallways for far too long. He swore he was heading in the right direction, but the exit he came in through never resurfaced. He walked through a pair of wide doors, hoping it to be another exit, but ended up in what appeared to be another ward. 

He walked past a door that was open and heard a woman's voice come out from it that made him stop in his tracks.  
"But Harry, he's- he's okay?"  
"Yes, Anne, he's okay really, love. I'll take you over straight after your chemo, but we really need to get this done now."  
"..I'm his mother, Grace. I need to be there.."  
Louis gasped. Harry's mum?  
"Anne, dear, you know Harry will understand. He knows you're back in chemo, he understands you need to rest and keep yourself well."  
Louis had stopped on the wall next to the door, trying to listen but not be noticed. All he was hearing then was a small silence.  
"Oh Anne. You didn't tell him?"  
"He just seemed to be having a rough time after the last time it showed up, and I..I just didn't want to make things worse for him."  
"Look, it'll be okay love, I promise. Come on, let's get you changed and get this all over with and if you're not too tired I'll take you to see Harry straight away, alright? And you can tell him about all this when you're ready. But you really should let him know. He's strong, he'll be fine- you all will."

Louis turned straight around and retraced his entire steps through the hospital, past Harry's room and finally out the door. He speed walked to his car and just sat there staring straight ahead with his hands firmly on the steering wheel.  
So Harry had overdosed. But he was okay.  
Harry's mum has cancer.  
Harry doesn't know.  
Shit. This wasn't good.  
Louis suddenly understood so much more about Harry, could see why he would feel the need to get high. Louis wasn't close with his parents, but he was sure he' be a bit of a mess if one of them was sick.  
But Harry doesn't know about whatever it is she has now.  
How would he react when he found out?  
Shit.

Louis drove home, his worry never settling. Nick called him and he ignored it. He went to the store to get food for his cat and got a few bottles of wine. Louis wasn't sure, but he had a good idea he would be needing it.  
He got in his flat and fell asleep for quite a few hours. He woke up in confusion, as he always did if he fell asleep in the middle of the day. But then everything from that morning came rushing back to him and he just sighed.  
Louis poured himself a glass of wine and mindlessly clicked through the tele, hoping to clear his mind. No such luck. He wasn't sure how much time had gone by, or how many glasses of wine he had had when his phone vibrated a text.  
Of course it was from Harry.  
"I'm sorry Louis."  
And shit, Louis couldn't take that right then. So he finished the bottle of wine and maybe had part of the other, he wasn't sure, but he was fairly pissed and called Nick.

"Ello?" Nick sounded groggy.  
"Nickk," Louis just sounded wasted.  
"Wassup then Tommo. Better be good for you interrupting my beauty sleep." Louis could hear Nick's smirk, but right then all he could picture were Harry's dimples, and it was making him want to cry.  
"Nick, I..fuck. Harry..Harry overdosed and he called me, and I went and at the hospital and I got lost and found his mum has cancer and he knows but no, he doesn't fucking know and shit fuck Nick what do I do."  
"Lou..what the fuck do you mean he doesn't know?" "I dunno..she, she was saying something like that she had it before, and he knew but now she like has it again or something and she didn't tell him."  
"He'll fucking kill himself, Nick..he almost did."  
"Louis, just calm down, alright? Just breathe, yea?"

That was all Louis could remember when he woke up the next day. He didn't remember telling Nick that he was in love with Harry, and just wanted to be with him and have him not be so sad and broken and not be a drug addict who didn't give a rat's arse if he lived or not. He didn't remember telling Nick that he had hooked up with Harry again the other night, just to have him blow him off when his mates came along. He didn't remember getting a text from Harry asking Louis to please forgive him, and not to leave him alone. Louis didn't remember responding and telling Harry he wouldn't.  
But apparently he had.  
Louis woke up on his kitchen floor with a massive headache and a kink in his neck. He saw the empty wine bottle and the half empty one still sitting near him, and that sent him running into the bathroom.  
He saw a text from Harry that had just been sent saying he was back home and wanted to talk to Louis.  
It made Louis' head throb more but he agreed and said he'd be over. Louis' time was all fucked up. The past two days had been a manic whirl. He vaguely recalled leaving a drunken message to his boss, which he was sure wouldn't go over well, but he was glad he had. He needed to see Harry and make sure he was okay.  
Louis left the house and made a promise to himself. He would do whatever the bloody fuck it would take to help Harry. He wouldn't leave or get fed up or get annoyed if he wanted to shag him then brush him off. Harry was hurting and he needed someone and Louis wanted it to be him.

He got to Harry's flat and knocked on the door. He heard a cough and then a mumble.  
"Harry? It's me- Louis."  
Louis heard another cough, longer followed by a raspy voiced "come in then."

Louis walked in and found the place to be dark, no lights on. He smelled tobacco smoke, and something else he couldn't place and wandered through until he found Harry sitting on the living room floor.  
"Hey."  
"Hi."  
"Uh, what're you doing..just sitting here in the dark?"  
"Trying to shut everything out."  
Louis felt guilty knowing about Harry's mum, when he wasn't even sure if he did.  
"Are you okay, Harry?"  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"I..uh, well I mean..I haven't seen you since the hospital.." Louis was relieved to see Harry wasn't as good as reading into his lies as Nick was. "So I mean like how are you feeling?"  
Harry shrugged and picked up a small bong. "They got all that shit out of my system and I'm still alive I guess so.." He brought a lighter up and inhaled.  
"Uh..Harry. Do you think you should be doing.. _that_?"  
" _This_ is crystal meth, Louis. And I don't think it really matters at this point, does it?"  
Louis just looked at him unsure. This wasn't like Harry, not how Louis had seen him anyway. He was cold and distant and Louis' gut was telling him it wasn't because of the drugs.  
"Want some, then?"  
Louis stared with his mouth open as Harry held out the small pipe to him.

Harry smirked and brought it back up to his own mouth. " 's fine Louis, you're not gonna die or end up in the hospital. I've literally been doing this for longer than I care to remember. I know what I'm doing."  
Harry exhaled and turned to face Louis. "Plus I wouldn't let anything happen to you, Louis. I would never let you take too much. You can trust me."  
The solemn look on Harry's face mixed with the tone of his voice made Louis believe him, and he almost said yes because he really just wanted to see Harry smile and be okay.  
"Harry I don't think that's a good idea." He watched Harry set the pipe down and turn to glance out the window.  
"Doesn't matter what's good and what's not. Nothing like that matters."  
"What do you mean, Harry?"  
He turned to face him, expression blank. "My mum's gonna die." He turned back to the window.  
Louis opened his mouth and struggled for a word but Harry continued.  
"She got cancer a few years back. My cunt of a dad cheated on her, she went into inpatient, he went into every girl in London under 30." Harry took out a baggy of off white powder, holding it in his hands. Louis just watched.  
"Then she went into remission. Got cancer again. Got it in her colon. Was getting treated for that, things looked better. Now she has fucking brain cancer."Louis tried to ignore how it looked like Harry was trying not to cry.  
"She is good, Louis- pure fucking good. She's never done or said a bad thing in her life. And look what that's gotten her?"  
He twirled the baggy between his fingers.  
"So I'm just waiting. She was the only thing I had to stick around for."  
"That's not true Harry." _You have me,_ his mind said. "You have your mates and your girlfriend."  
Harry scoffed. Louis didn't know what to say. Harry seemed to be getting more out of it.  
"My sister's a fucking junkie. She got clean for about two fucking weeks only 'cos her boyfriend had to and made her agree to stop too. He started again and so did she and they moved out of town and now it's back to me having nothing to do with her 'cos she doesn't want me to. I have no family left."  
Louis' heart was breaking.  
"I have nothing left."  
"You..you have me Harry.."  
Harry looked up at him.  
"I could never have you, Louis."  
They stared at each other. Louis didn't understand. Harry looked down at the baggy.

"Louis..you don't know what it feels like..to have all of this bullshit raging on inside you. I'm trying really hard to not just get as fucked as possible, 'cos you're here. That's why I wanted you here.."  
"I'm here for you, Harry..and you're sure you're not fucked?"  
Harry let out a short tired laugh. "Of course I'm fucked, Louis. I'll always be fucked. But I'm not too massively fucked up right now, no."  
Louis wasn't convinced but nodded along.  
"Louis..I..there's something that I-"  
"Harry. Harry, you're bleeding."  
Harry just looked at him confused.  
"Your nose..your nose is bleeding."  
Harry understood then and just tilted his head back with an annoyed look, like he was used to it. Louis tried to pretend that that wasn't the case.  
"Shit. There's my flatmate coming back," Harry said, looking out the window again. "You should just go Louis, they're gonna have my arse for this shit."  
Louis tried to protest but Harry kept saying he was fine and apologized a few dozen times and Louis didn't fully know for what but he told him it was okay and obliged, heading out the door.

Louis didn't understand Harry. He didn't understand how Harry kept saying things like Louis was the only light he could see or that he wanted Louis around so he wouldn't get fucked. It felt like he was using Louis, and Louis couldn't make sense of it.  
What had Harry meant by "they're"? He had said it was his flat mate coming back, his single flatmate, as in one, so who was "they"? Louis' heart sunk when he realized it must have been Harry's girlfriend, Effy. Her and Harry's roommate had gone to the hospital together, why wouldn't they both have been showing up, to check on him?  
Why had Harry even called him over? Why not his girlfriend? It was Harry doing things like that that was leaving Louis feeling so massively confused about his intentions.  
Louis thought about it all night until he eventually fell asleep. He thought about it while he showered the next day, and while he drove to work. He thought about Harry all day at work too. By the time the day was finally fucking over, Louis was both physically and mentally exhausted. He was worried about Harry, and he was beginning to be worried for his own sanity because Harry Styles was making him into some frantic jealous worrying fuck. 

Louis sighed and walked around the corner to his flat. He stopped straight in his tracks once he realized there was a figure sitting in front of his door.  
Harry.  
Harry was sat there, leaning against the door, visibly shaking and holding his eyes shut tight, his arms hugging around his knees.  
Louis nearly dropped his keys.  
"Harry?"  
Harry's eyes shot open and he scrambled and stumbled to his feet.  
"Louis!"  
"What's, what's going on.."  
"Louis, please. Just please Louis.."  
"Harry what's wrong, eh? Just say it."  
"Louis it's my mum.."  
Louis' tone softened but he still wondered why Harry was sitting outside of _his_ door.  
"Why are you here tho, Harry? Why here?"  
Harry looked up at him, eyes wild and scared. All Louis wanted to do was hold him and listen to what happened and be there for him. But he didn't want to keep doing this, whatever it was, just to have Harry keep pulling him in and then pushing him anyway.  
"I..I just.."  
"I..I think you should go Harry..to your girlfriend." Louis tried to sound firm but it was breaking him and he couldn't meet Harry's eyes.  
He didn't see Harry's face drop. Or his eyes grow wide in surprise and mouth open slightly, then close in understanding. He felt it though, and sensed him nod and begin to move away.  
"Just..here though."  
Harry placed a small bag in front of Louis' door.  
"What is it?"  
"Just, just get rid of it for me, okay? I don't..just please, Louis." Harry said over his shoulder. "M sorry I came."  
He walked away and Louis watched him, unable to move until he was totally out of view.  
Louis picked up the bag filled with small pills. Louis had no idea what they were or why Harry had him (okay that he knew) or why he left them there. But Louis brought them inside and went to flush them down the toilet, except he didn't.  
He opened the bag and took one pill out, staring at it.  
He turned it around in front of his eyes.  
One small little pill. Looked harmless. Was harmless.  
Had to be, right?  
He decided to take it, because really why not at that point.  
He flushed the rest and went in to watch some tele.

~  
"..hello?"  
The voice was low and sad, laced with confusion.  
"Hey."  
"..hey.."  
"Wassup then?"  
"Uh..I,uh.."  
"Pussy got your tongue?"  
And he could tell right then that something wasn't right because that didn't sound like Louis.  
"..everything okay Louis?"  
"You tell me."  
"Are you drunk?"  
"Not in the least."  
"..Louis, did you, fuck, did you take those fucking pills?"  
"Maybe I did. So fucking what?"  
"What the fuck- Louis, I..I gave them to you to get rid of, why would you..fuck. I'm coming over."

~  
Louis didn't remember much when he woke up.  
He didn't know what he took.  
He didn't know why.  
He didn't..remember Harry falling asleep next to him in his bed.  
But, Fuck.  
He remembered Harry coming over.  
He remembered panicking, and feeling sick and Harry stroking his hair and telling him everything was okay.  
He remembered Harry singing to him.  
He remembered Harry helping him after he puked.  
He remembered Harry bringing him water.  
He remembered Harry helping him change.  
He remembered Harry kissing him.  
He remembered rubbing up against him.  
He remembered snogging until his lips felt numb and he felt on the verge of a blackout.  
He remembered Harry holding him in his arms.  
He didn't, however, remember just why any of that had happened, and he definitely didn't know what to do then.

"Morning. Feeling better?"  
Louis turned, startled. Harry was smiling up at him, tired and groggy, his voice holding even more of a rasp then usual. Louis felt himself begin to grow hard at the sight and quickly tried to reroute his mind.  
"Uh," he cleared his throat. "Yea, yea I'm fine.."  
The awkwardness left between them was apparent, though Harry wasn't sure why.  
"What's wrong Lou?"  
Louis didn't like how much he liked the way the nickname sounded on Harry's tongue.  
"Just..Harry, what is this? What's going on with us?"  
Louis needed answers, and he needed them right then. He couldn't take any more of the constant on again off again bullshit cycle they were trapped in.

Harry didn't respond and Louis kept rambling on.  
"I mean like, why are you..and why is this, whatever this is.."  
Louis trailed off as Harry sat up and inched closer to him. He felt Harry's hand touch his chin. He felt their lips connect. He felt his tongue dance at the contact of Harry's. He felt himself growing hard. He felt Harry's hands.  
They kissed and they touched and it wasn't an answer, but it was answer enough for right then. And when Harry said "I, Louis..I want to be inside you..," Louis practically ran to get a condom and lube, which admittedly he hadn't needed to use in an embarrassingly long time. 

They kissed again, slower and steamier, stripping off their clothes. Louis didn't need Harry to say it was his first time with a bloke, but he went slow, helping to guide Harry along.  
And when Harry's fingers were working their way inside of him, Louis practically burst with anticipation. He had dreamed (quite literally) about that moment, about him and Harry together, _really_ together in the most intimate way. And Louis was sure it was already better than he had imagined.  
It felt like everything was moving in slow motion. Their kisses were soft and passionate, their fingers lingered over each other just slightly, as if they were both afraid if they touched too hard the other would burst and disappear.  
Louis' erection, however, was doing quite the opposite.  
The sight of Harry, naked in his bed, kneeling in front of him, tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly as he pumped his fingers in and out of Louis was enough to make him cum right then and there.  
"Ready?"  
And God, Louis had been ready for hours it seemed. He watched Harry roll the condom over him, and it was slow and sensual and Louis was sure it hadn't meant to be but his own cock was throbbing and his heart was racing, awaiting the feeling of Harry inside him.  
Harry pushed in, slowly and Louis could barely take it. 

"God, Harry..just.. _fuck_."  
Harry was in and Louis was in heaven already. The mere sight of Harry's face contorted in pleasure alone had Louis nearing his orgasm, but Louis held out because Harry Styles was fucking him in him bedroom right then, and he'd be damned if he came that soon.  
Harry looked to Louis in assurance and once he saw his frantic nod Harry began pumping faster.  
"Oh fuck."  
Louis grabbed on to Harry's arm and pulled his neck down, connecting their lips, hard.  
Louis wasn't sure how long it had been but he felt the heat rising in his stomach and he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.  
"Shit..Harry..I'm gonna.."  
Harry kept thrusting in him and all too soon Louis went over the edge. Harry stopped and watched him come undone, his mouth opening slightly as a small moan of awe came out of his mouth.  
He reached down to his own cock, but Louis leaned up and took him in his mouth and Harry was so surprised by the action that within seconds he was coming into Louis' mouth.

They layed next to each other, panting and speechless, a look of pure bliss on Louis' face and a look of awe on Harry's.  
Louis propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Harry, proud of what he had been able to do to him.  
And then Louis kissed him, because he fucking could.  
Because Harry had fucked him, finally.  
Because Louis now had reassurance that what he felt for Harry was felt back, and that was the best fucking feeling in the world. 

The next couple of days went by in a sort of blur. Louis felt like he was in a dream, going to work every day in a stupidly cheery mood and then going home at night and waiting for Harry to come over.  
And Harry did.  
Louis didn't care about rude clients, he didn't care about traffic, he didn't care about fucking anything because he was in love with Harry Styles, and he was fucking him. He didn't care what Harry had told his girlfriend, if anything. He didn't even care if Harry was still with her, because he was still choosing him. Louis had finally broken the curse of him falling for straight men and falling for arseholes who didn't want anything to do with him. Finally, his affection was met back. 

He got home and took a quick shower, and waited for Harry to text him that he was coming over. Louis didn't care if Harry was high, which he wasn't sure if he had been the past few nights, because if he was it never seemed to be a troubling amount. He wasn't passing out or falling over himself and needing to go to the hospital. And, as Louis loved to remind himself, Harry had first fucked him straight after waking up, sober as a baby.  
That was enough. 

"Come over to mine tonight, yea?"  
Louis hesitated, not sure if that was a good idea. They were safe at Louis', no one was there to walk in on them or disturb them (except his cat, who had jumped up onto the bed in the middle of one their times together) but he didn't know who would be around at Harry's flat. He had a flatmate, and he still didn't know if he was still with his girlfriend or not.  
But then Harry sent another text saying "I can't wait to get back inside you," and Louis sent all his doubts anyway and grabbed his coat. 

"Hey," Harry greeted him at the door, kissing him hard and pulling him into the flat.  
Within minutes they were naked on Harry's couch, not giving a damn in all of hell if anyone could hear them. 

Louis did care, however, when the door opened. He cared a lot when Effy and Alex both walked in. He cared when Harry jumped off of him. He cared when Effy said "what the fuck," and Harry said "wait, babe, I can explain."  
Louis cared when Harry left him naked on the couch to go to her. He cared when Alex just stared at him, making him feel exposed and awkward and out of place. He cared a fucking lot when Harry didn't even look back at him as he threw clothes on and ran after Effy saying "no, no it meant nothing, it doesn't."  
Louis cared so much when he heard Harry say "no, babe, come on, I was just high, I love _you_."  
Louis cared so much he couldn't even bring himself to move.  
He felt his eyes start to sting with moisture, because how could he be _that_ stupid.  
 _Again._  
He threw his clothes on and stormed out of the flat, blocking out the sounds of Effy yelling and crying and Harry consoling her and saying Louis was "no one."

Louis cared so much that he went home and took everything that reminded him of Harry Styles out of his flat. His bed sheets, the clothes he was wearing, his pillow case. He took it all and threw them in the trash bag and climbed back into bed without bothering to replace the sheets. He tried to ignore how all he could smell was Harry. He tried to ignore that he was crying, and Harry didn't care, because he hadn't ever really cared about him. He ignored his cat purring next to him because it wasn't Harry purring into his ear. He reached into the drawer of his nightstand and swallowed a few sleeping pills he had gotten from Nick months ago and closed his eyes, praying he would wake up tomorrow to find this was all a sick dream. He had gone through enough shit and heartache already, and this just confirmed what he already knew in the back of his mind.  
Harry Styles was nothing but trouble for Louis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's kinda long and awkward idk I had a lot I wanted to try and fit in but I couldn't figure out how to tie it all in together!


	13. Chapter 13

Louis was certain he wanted absolutely nothing to do with Harry Styles, nothing at all. So naturally when he went for a walk to clear his head and somehow found himself on Harry's street, he wondered what was wrong with him. And of course because the entire universe was against him a hundred percent, Harry happened to be leaving his flat right at the exact second that Louis found his legs to be made of cement.   
Harry turned around and looked up and froze, mid hair swish, when his eyes caught on Louis'.  
"Louis." His voice was laced with surprise and Louis wanted to disappear.   
"Hi Harry."  
"What are you..uh, how, uh how have you been?"  
"I've been fine Harry."  
Louis wanted to tell the truth, he wanted to say he had been bloody fucking awful. That that was the first time he'd left his flat in nearly 6 days. But he found himself clinging on for dear life to the one shred of pride he had left, and Harry didn't seem to call his bullshit.   
"That's..that's good Lou."  
Louis wanted to yell, wanted to tell Harry he didn't get to call him that anymore. But he couldn't even pretend that hearing Harry say it didn't melt his insides like butter. 

"Look I, I never got to.."  
Harry looked down and then looked back at Louis, who was fairly certain he was retaining the world's stupidest blank look anyone had ever seen. But how was that even happening?  
"I'm sorry Louis..I, I..."  
Harry apparently didn't have the words and Louis apparently couldn't stand it anymore. He just tilted his head forward in a single quick nod and turned to walk away.   
"Right, well..that's...bye Harry."  
"Wait! Louis please, I..I never got to explain.."  
Louis turned slightly, knowing he didn't want to hear it.  
"I ended it with Effy.."  
"And what Harry? Why should I even care?"  
Louis did care though, he cared so much but he couldn't let himself get hurt again.  
Harry struggled to organize his thoughts but failed miserably as he shot out a rumbled combination of every thought he'd had over the past few days.   
"Look Louis, I know you like proper hate me-fuck-I hate me too, and well with reason and all but you've got to listen, please, Louis, I haven't been able to get it out of my head and I thought I was out of here but here you are at my door right as I'm leaving and it had to be for reason so I've got to just say-"  
"Jesus Harry how fucking high are you." Louis said it sad and low, the realization that Harry hadn't changed at all, and wasn't going to setting in.   
"No, Louis listen I'm fucking- Jesus fuck I'm so fucking sorry Lou. I'm so bloody fucking sorry I fucked up massively, _massively_ and I just, but-fuck- I know what it is now and Louis I just.."  
He stopped to read Louis' face.   
"Louis, I've got to tell you that-"  
"Don't, Harry."  
"W..What?"  
Harry was caught completely off guard.  
"No but Louis, it's just I think I-"  
"Don't. Don't say it Harry. Just don't."  
Harry just stood there, confused and taken aback, with his mouth still open, the three words that he couldn't get to leave his mind threatening to leap off his tongue. He looked at Louis, who just looked sad and tired and small and hurt. It wasn't right; it wasn't how Harry had pictured it.   
Harry still couldn't grasp the situation enough to speak but then he saw Louis turn and look down. He saw Louis shake his head lightly and say "just..don't" and walk away, leaving Harry to stand there as the heart on his sleeve collapsed and went lifeless on the floor in front of his feet.

Louis walked away, shutting his eyes tight to hold the tears back and telling himself to breathe. Had Harry really just tried to tell him the one thing he'd been dying to hear? But he was high, at least Louis thought he was and he couldn't do that, he just couldn't go through it all again.   
Louis spent the entire walk back thinking about Harry in all his pale glory. Louis wondered if maybe he had some sort of unrecognized problem, some underlying issue because he supposed it wasn't normal human nature to be quite so aroused by someone who was and blatantly looked like a drug addict. Harry was pale and skinny and lanky and hunched over slightly when he walked. Sometimes, back when they were fucking (back before Louis got his heart smashed into pieces, he thought), Louis would notice Harry to blow up in bruises, (and not from Louis) just from being so sensitive and in such poor health. When they would fuck or snog or touch, Louis would make sure to be careful and gentle, as to ensure he didn't break or tarnish Harry's frail sensitive body. Louis supposed he most definitely had some sort of problem. 

Louis tried to imagine what it would be like if Harry wasn't a drug addict. What they would be like without Harry's mood swings and without Harry leaving to the bathroom or to get a drink and coming back, seemingly too long later, with glassy eyes. He wondered what it would be like without Harry's denial, of his problems and of the reasons he chose his girlfriend. He wondered what it would be like if Harry could admit he had feelings for him. Louis just stopped and laughed to himself. Harry never had feelings for him, he doesn't. He was a drug addict, and was out of his right mind and probably didn't even know what love was. 

Louis realized just how stupid he was to think that he and Harry could actually be something. He realized just how fucking delusional he was, how he always was. Louis realized all of it as he took another drink, drawing it out as long as he could stand the burn, because he swore to himself he'd never fall for another bloke unless he was 100 percent positive he was into him. And Harry might have been close to saying it, but he was still doing drugs and still choosing that over Louis and goddammit Louis wasn't going to fuck himself over again.  
"Hello? Earth to Tommo."  
"Huh?"  
"Jesus Lou come on. Do you really just want to spend another night getting hopelessly plastered in your depressing flat?"  
Louis refilled his glass and tipped it towards Nick in response before taking another pull.   
"Just forget about him Louis. You could have already found a better shag 6 times over by now if you weren't so busy moping."

Louis just stopped at that. Harry wasn't just a shag. He was never just a shag. In fact, Louis hadn't even planned on him actually getting to fuck Harry, he just wanted to look at him. He was Louis' beautiful fallen angel, his muse. Louis had wanted to fix him, frame him. He hadn't planned on being pulled down with him.

~

Harry woke up to something unfamiliar beneath him. Grass, he concluded after opening his eyes enough to find out. His arm was throbbing and his head was hopelessly pounding and he felt as if he had been hit by a bus, which wasn't seeming too far fetched seeing as he still had no idea where he was or how he got there.   
He sat up and pulled himself to his feet on shaky legs. His phone was on the ground a few feet over and he went to it and saw Louis' number up on the screen. He vaguely recalled doing that a number of times, wanting so badly to hear Louis' voice, but knowing he couldn't. Knowing Louis didn't care anymore.  
The throbbing in his arm continued and, annoyed, Harry rolled up his sleeve. He hadn't remembered shooting up, but there was bright red and black bruised evidence. Harry rubbed his hand over it gently, inspecting the apparently quite awful job he had done. He must have been fucked up already because it looked as tho he had missed the vein quite a few times, and that was just adding to the sensitivity that was caused from, what Harry chose to ignore but was really looking like an infection. He brushed it off and began walking.

~

When Louis first opened his eyes, he thought he most certainly was still asleep because he had to be dreaming.  
"What..the fuck.."  
"About time you woke up, fucker."  
Louis couldn't understand why Nick was acting as though nothing was wrong.   
"Uh..what's goin' on then?"  
Louis got off the couch and walked through into the kitchen, guard already up.  
"Effy just wanted to see if we had heard from Harry."  
Louis looked from Nick to Effy, still not understanding and still not knowing why he was still alive, because he was the mistress.   
"Uh..well no, we haven't. Sorry."  
Louis was still confused. And he couldn't read her look.

"Look..I..whatever happened with you two, or is happening, I don't care, like I don't want to know.." She looked down briefly, appearing on the verge of tears. Louis almost felt bad as she couldn't return her eyes to him. "But Harry is..he needs help. Alex says he hasn't been home in a few days and we're just..we're worried. I just- we just want to make sure he's okay.."  
Louis suddenly had more respect for her, as it was painfully obvious how much she cared about Harry to still be bothering after he had cheated on and then left her for a guy.

Louis suggested looking for him in places he frequented, and he couldn't help but notice the look in Effy's eyes when she realized Louis knew more about Harry. Harry had been more open and real with him then he had with her and she really didn't stand a chance. After no look finding him, Effy went home and locked herself in her bedroom, crying herself to sleep for what seemed like the 50th time that week.

~

Harry was sure he should have gotten back to the flat already. He was also sure he shouldn't have been feeling as shite as he was. He was dizzy and lightheaded, and was sure he was swaying slightly as he continued to walk, or drag himself, really. His arm was still throbbing, his head felt as if it was being drilled into and the entire situation would have had him yelling in frustration if he didn't feel quite so close to blacking out.  
Harry leaned against a wall and fished out his cellphone, not understanding why his eyes were having such a difficult time focusing. He wasn't sure if he had read it wrong, but the last date he remembered seeing was nearly two days ago. How could he not remember two whole days?He leaned his head back against the wall and waited for the other line to pick up.  
"Hello? I..I need your help.."

~

Harry woke up to the all too familiar beeping. Sure enough, he opened his eyes and found himself to be in a hospital bed. He sighed and struggled to sit up, noticing how his arm was bandaged.  
"You're a fucking right idiot Harry Styles."  
Harry hadn't even noticed Alex sitting there.  
"Had you left that shit alone much longer it could have spread and killed you, or, or have had it so you'd have to have your arm amputated or-"  
Harry held his hand up to him, willingly him to lay off the lecture, even for just a minute.He saw Alex shake his head.   
"You're in this place too fucking much lately Haz. Don't you put me through it again, just don't, Harry."  
Harry looked down at his hands. He didn't need Alex to specify, he knew. Alex had never recovered from the time Harry had overdosed, and often overreacted. But right then he thought maybe Alex was right that time. Maybe he was getting a little too close to the point he was at back then.  
"And just since when the fuck are you doing H so often now?"  
Harry looked up fast, eyes wide, searching for an alternate explanation but not finding one.   
"You _see_ what that shit does Harry," Alex was manicly pointing towards Harry's arm. "You see what it does."  
"Yea, Alex, I see." Harry was getting annoyed; mostly because he felt guilty. He hated worrying people and especially Alex, who he had already put through so much.  
"Then why, Harry?"  
Harry leaned his head back and shut his eyes tights, his fists balling up. That had been exactly what he had done the heroin hoping to forget. "My mum.."  
"What Harry?"  
"..the cancer's back, Alex. In her brain."

Harry wasn't sure when he started crying, or when Alex had come over and sat next to him but they stayed like that, in a tight embrace for what seemed like ages. Maybe, Harry thought, maybe that was what it's like for normal people. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to stay sober and latch onto people and cope through them instead of through drugs. But then Harry's hands started to shake, and his body started to itch and his nose was running madly and he knew what was coming. He just wasn't sure if his body would be strong enough to detox completely and deal with his mum and deal with everything and everyone else he had fucked over. 

~

Harry left the hospital after being discharged and got on a bus to another. He needed to see his mum. He walked in and saw her there, frail and worn out and Harry felt a hole being punched through his heart. She smiled at him, weak but still there and Harry wanted to turn around and run out and go get so fucked up that he wouldn't even remember seeing her that way, but he didn't.   
He stayed and he cried and he hugged her so tightly he was afraid he might break her. He apologized for everything he could think of: for not being around as much as he should have, for being a shit son, for stealing money out of her purse when he was seven, for becoming someone she wouldn't be proud of.   
She had just smiled at him and said "Love, the fact that you're here right now and you're owning up to all of this just shows how good you are. I'll always be proud of you Harry, remember that. Even when I'm not here in front of you I'll always be watching and be proud of you."

Harry had cried more and told her she was wrong, that he was a bad person, that he had done bad things.  
Anne had grabbed his face with both of her hands and said "Harry you have a good heart. You always did and you still do, whatever you've done, you still do. You wouldn't be here if you didn't. I'll always love you no matter what, more than life itself."   
She kissed his forehead and layed back down and Harry knew. Harry saw it.  
He just stared at her, watching her blink, watching her breathe, knowing that time was running out. Harry held her hand and just kept saying "I love you mum I'm so sorry," over and over like a mantra and she smiled weakly and nodded and pressed her hand into his. Harry kept saying it, kept trying to make it last and the last thing he heard his mum say was "I'll always love you," and Harry had completely broken down.   
When he watched her go the reality he knew was coming hit him so hard he was breathless. Harry clung onto her, throwing himself on top of her in a manic hug, sobbing and screaming "no, no, don't leave me, I need you," until the nurses and a guard came in. The rest went by in a blur to Harry. Gemma was called and went (back, since she had been there earlier and was on her way back anyway) and she tried to comfort Harry but he was past being helped. They had their time to say goodbyes and then her body was being moved and her stuff was being cleaned out and Gemma was talking about funeral arrangements and Harry was so overwhelmed that he stopped crying and just went numb. 

Harry left the hospital, needing to get away, although half of him felt excruciatingly guilty for not staying. But he needed to take a step back and think (or get high). Harry looked around at the people passing by and couldn't take it; there was too much life and it wasn't fair. A million other people deserved to die before his mum did.   
He did.   
"It should have fucking been me," he said to no one, realization in his tone. "I was in the hospital! IT SHOULD HAVE FUCKING BEEN ME INSTEAD"   
Harry was crying again and a few people turned to look towards him but Harry was gone. He ran off, needing desperately to get away from any sort of crowd. As he walked, he thought about his life, his mum. The life they had together as a family, the life they could have had. The life she deserved. Harry couldn't understand why it had to happen, though his mum kept saying there was some greater reason. Harry couldn't see even half of a reason. 

Who was going to keep him grounded? Who was going to be his family, his support? Who would be able to calm him down and always know the right thing to say? There was no one. No one came close to the person his mum was. _Was,_ he thought, causing the tears to flow more rapidly again.

Harry sat down on the sidewalk leaning against the fence of a park. He couldn't walk anymore, his legs aching almost as much as his heart was. His head was swimmy and his eyes burned and goddammit he wished he hadn't been getting high for two days straight because he was fairly certain withdrawal was setting in. There was only one person Harry wanted to see, and he couldn't. Not then and not ever again. It just wasn't fair.  
So he went and bought some pills and then he called what he figured was the next best thing.

~

Louis heard his phone ringing, _again_ and he was ready to kill Nick. He had been calling him almost nonstop for the past 45 minutes, trying to ensure Louis wasn't going to bail on going on with him again.   
"Fucking what now you useless prick I'm trying to look decent for you."  
"Louis."  
And fucking hell Louis couldn't even feel his legs anymore.  
"Harry?"  
Louis really had to make a habit to stop and check his called ID first.  
"Louis, please Louis.."  
Louis could hear that Harry was crying and he didn't understand what was happening.  
"Harry, are you alright? What's wrong?"  
"Louis, she's gone..she's gone.."

Harry broke out into sobs again and Louis wished he didn't care anymore, but fuck, he was just sitting there listening to man he loves crying hysterically. He had to help.  
"Sh, Harry it's alright. Who's gone?"  
He tried to talk slow, and calming, which seemed ironic since he was now full of worry.  
"..my mum."  
Louis felt his entire heart drop as he placed a hand over his mouth. Harry said it as though he was just realizing it, like it was just sinking in.   
"Oh my God, Harry, love, I'm so sorry-"  
He heard Harry begin to cry even harder and he was beginning to feel helpless. He heard something like a car horn in the background.  
"Harry? Harry where you are you?"  
"It should have..it should have been me.."  
"Harry where are you I'll come."  
Harry continued to sob and then told Louis the street, finally, and Louis flew out his apartment door. 

~

"Hey."  
Harry just looked at him through wet, burning eyes.  
"You looking or not?"  
Realization set in and although he was already beginning to feel a buzz from the pills he had taken, Harry figured why the fuck not.  
He bought some dope and snorted some off his finger right there on the street corner. He felt his eyelids droop, felt the fire rush through his body, burning down every ounce of negativity in him and leaving his body light and free. His mind however, couldn't shake the word "death" and he went in and out of waves of pleasure and waves of wishing he was dead. 

Louis' car pulled up and Harry was sure that whatever was happening was going to end badly.  
But when Louis got out and pulled Harry into a hug, it felt nice. Until Harry thought of the last person he had hugged that tightly and then he wanted to cry again. So when Louis went around the other side of the car, Harry snorted a bit more.   
Louis was unsure what to say. He drove, watching Harry sit there. He tried to read his expression, but failed and when Harry tilted his head back against the seat and his eyes fluttered back, Louis knew he had the drugs to thank for that.

"Harry, come on. We're here."  
Harry opened his eyes and the first thing he saw were Louis'. Harry immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out the bag of dope, but dropped it on the floor in front of him. Louis' eyes were so bright and full of life, and that's what Harry had always liked about them. But right then all he could see in Louis was his mum and fuck, he couldn't handle that. He just wanted to refuel his high. Unfortunately, Louis got the bag first. "Come on, Harry," he said grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the car. "Just wait 'til we get inside at least, before someone sees you and calls the cops for Christ's sake.."  
Harry felt Louis guide him into his flat and set him down on the sofa.   
"Where's the..gimme the.." Harry felt his head droop down, his eyelids too heavy to focus.   
"Yea, don't think you need it right now then." He said with a sad sigh. Louis watched Harry sit there, unmoving in his slumped posture and tried to figure out what the fuck to do. His first thought, obviously, was to flush the drugs. But, he thought, that would only anger Harry more and make him want to leave. And what could Louis really do to stop him, tie him down?   
"Shit," Louis sighed to himself, running a hand through his hair.   
Maybe, he thought. Maybe if he kept the drugs there, and Harry knew they were still there, Louis could convince him to stay and maybe get through to him; talk to him and distract him from wanting to get high. Louis wasn't sure it would work but it was a better plan then letting Harry roam the streets alone in the state he was in. Louis was sure if Harry walked out that door he'd never see him alive again.  
Louis stared at the drugs then back at Harry. All he wanted to do was pick Harry up out of all this bullshit and carry him away to a new start. Harry was sensitive and fragile and he was just doing the best he could to deal with having to get the shit end of the stick so often. Louis didn't want to justify it, but he understood at least right then, how Harry wanted to get high. 

Louis sat there and watched Harry and waited until he woke up. He sat next to him and held his hand on Harry's shoulder asking him how he was. He held onto him when Harry broke down in violent sobs, telling Louis how it wasn't fair and he deserved it, not her and Louis nearly cried himself. He felt Harry's arms tense up as time went on and he could tell he wanted the drugs. So Louis tried to distract him.  
"Do you want to like..talk about it Harry? Or about her. Tell me about her or things you used to do or.."  
Louis trailed off, looking to Harry's face nervously to see if he was helping or just adding fuel to the fire.  
"She was the best person, Louis. She was so, so pure. So great."  
Louis hummed along and stroked Harry's hair as he layed his head on Louis' lap and talked, rambling on about his mum until he, eventually, fell back to sleep.  
Louis made himself a new promise. He swore he would be there for Harry, one hundred percent, and help him get through his mum's death and through his drug addiction. Louis wouldn't push him away ever again. 

~

Harry stood there, on the beach, smile on his face and wind blowing his hair all about. He saw Gemma building a sandcastle a ways over. He saw Dean behind them with a camera, snapping candid photos. He heard his mum call to him and he looked over and saw her standing there, glowing, the sun casting a halo of light around her. She smiled at him and it was wide and pure and healthy, and her eyes shone and Harry went to run over to her.  
But then he saw her smile falter, her eyes get more tired. He began running in place almost, time slowing down to almost nothing leaving him in a helpless state, running but never moving. He saw Dean let the waves take away the camera as he was too busy snogging a young girl to notice it. He saw Gemma laying on her back, dazed and sad. He saw his arms, scarred with needle marks and bruises. He watched his mum disappear as the sun went down and his body collapsed into pieces.

Harry shot up, feeling pain race through his entire body as the continuation to the nightmare he just had. He had remembered the beach memory, one of the last good memories he had in his brain as them as a real family before his mum got sick.   
Sick, what he was feeling now.

Harry got up and raced to the bathroom as quickly as he could find it, which was literally within second of time. His body failed him, going weak and his legs going numb as he lurched into the toilet until his stomach was as empty as his heart. His nose was running something awful and sweat was sticking his hair to his head and he didn't even care.  
He didn't care to fix any of it, he didn't care to move or clean his face. He just stayed there and slumped himself down onto the floor, closing in on himself as tears left his eyes once again.   
Harry stayed just like that, not caring to look for enough energy to move as he felt Louis wrap his arms around and whisper things in his ear. He felt Louis clean his face and brush his sticky hair out of his face and he wondered why Louis bothered. He felt him lower him into a bath he hadn't remembered being started. Harry felt Louis gently clean off his face and his limbs and his hair and Harry wondered why he still felt so hopelessly unclean.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These have been the busiest last few weeks so I'm sorry this took so long to finally put up! This chapter's a bit boring but it's just setting the scene. More exciting things are coming!

Naturally Harry had been furious when he found out Louis flushed his smack. He went mad and threw things about and screamed and cursed Louis. Harry understood why Louis had done it but he also understood what would come from that. He knew that was it, his un consented detox; knew that Louis wouldn't let him get it again because Alex had done that same thing to him when he overdosed on meth. Harry knew all about what was going to come next. But a meth detox was nothing compared to what Harry had heard and seen of a heroin one and he scared himself shitless, swearing he was too weak to handle it.  
He broke down and cried and sobbed and begged and offered to suck Louis off to get some. He promised all he needed was one little taste and then he would stop for good. He shook and got sick and looked horrid and stayed balled up on Louis' bathroom floor for the next three days. He thought of his mum and he cried more and it made his body shake more, desperately needing an escape. Harry had never in his entire life dealt with his feelings. All he had ever known was running and numbing so Harry's body was in a triple shock from the death and the feeling and the withdrawal. He blamed Louis, swore he hated him and he would never talk to him again. Louis watched on, helpless, wanting so badly to give Harry whatever he needed to stop him from hurting. But he knew, somewhere deep inside of him knew that he had to do this. So he just watched Harry, hopelessly and when Harry was asleep he watched him and cried and prayed to the god he had stopped believing was there to please, please help Harry.

Apparently someone had answered Louis' prayers. He couldn't remember a time in his life that he had been that happy. And yea, things were still hard. Harry still had bad days and bad dreams and would get into these moods but he was clean, had been for nearly four weeks. And Harry was trying, he really, really was. And he and Louis might not have a normal relationship, but they had them, together. Harry started staying over at Louis' a few nights a week and they went out on dinner dates and went to the movies occasionally (mostly ended up just snogging through the whole thing) and went to art museums. They talked, and got to know each other inside and out, and for Harry it was like meeting Louis all over again. Harry was so grateful for Louis, that he had gotten him sober and gave him a reason to stay that way. He missed his mum immensely and it was hard being around Louis sometimes, because he was so alike her. But Harry loved Louis, as much as he could love. Things were still hard for him. It was hard to feel things so strongly, having been so used to hiding behind a high. It was hard for him to accept things he had done, things he had put everyone through, namely what he did to Effy and Alex. It was hard for him to accept his mum was really gone and he couldn't just go see her when he felt he needed some guidance. Luckily though, he found Louis to be a good alternative.

And Louis was so, so supportive. He went to support groups with Harry, sat with him or waited outside for him. And Harry still struggled, he struggled with finding himself mostly. It was hard to go from being so numb for so long, not feeling anything except what he willingly wanted to and he found the world to be quite overwhelming. The people, the fast pace of everything, the emotions. It was all new to Harry and he felt like a stranger in his own body, his confidence that was once borderline conceited, completely gone.  
But Louis was there, Louis was always there for him. And Alex was there and Nick was there and it was nice to have _friends_ , not just babysitters. 

Harry still didn't trust himself anywhere near the drug scene. He avoided bars and clubs, and even drinking because he was really trying and for the first time he really had something to lose. He had Louis, beautiful supportive Louis, and he had felt him and known him and had him while he was sober so he really remembered it all. He had touched Louis and Louis had touched him, in more ways than just physically, and Harry knew if he started using again, if he went back, he would go back to being alone. Louis would be gone and he would hate him and Harry would have broken him. And Harry couldn't remember a lot of things from when he was using and everything that he had rediscovered was with Louis. And Harry found he almost preferred the feeling Louis gave him over the drugs. It was progress.

But how could he not? Harry looked at Louis and he didn't just see beauty, he didn't just see the love of his life, he saw every single thing Louis had meant to him. He saw Louis taking care of him, kissing him, supporting him, whispering "It's okay, I'm here, I love you so much," in his ear. And it didn't seem like much but to Harry it was an overwhelming amount, an unconditional love he didn't know before; it was everything. 

 

So that's where it leaves Louis, waking up to Harry cooking him breakfast in his kitchen, _their_ kitchen, really, on a Sunday morning. Louis smiled at Harry, standing there in just his boxers, intently waiting to flip pancakes. He loved seeing Harry healthy, alive. He wasn't the sickly skinny pale body with a mass of bruises and track marks anymore. And Louis found that every day he watched Harry improve, his attraction to him grew as well.  
"Morning," Louis smiled, grazing his hand over Harry's waist as he leaned up to kiss him. "Sleep well?"Harry leaned into his hand and kissed him back and Louis could feel Harry smile against his lips.  
"Yup." Louis never got tired of seeing Harry flash that million dollar smile. Louis smiled back and sat down at the table.  
"Smells good."Harry smiled over his shoulder, then went back to flipping the pancakes, placing them on a plate. "Made chocolate chip just for you, babe."  
Louis smiled again. "I know. Thanks love."Louis didn't notice the way that Harry's smile still slightly fell at hearing the endearment. It was what his mum always called him, and although Louis calling him that meant something different entirely, something equally as great but different, his mum's face always flashed through his head.  
Harry shook it off and and brought the plates over to the table.  
"Ya know, I'm supposed to be eating all healthy and that," he smiled at Louis. "But you and your sweet tooth..and that adorable look you get when you eat chocolate is enough to make me completely abandon the idea."  
Louis swallowed the mouth full of pancakes and put his hands up, mock defensively. "Hey, hey now Harry, no one told you to start spoiling me and cooking me the world's best pancakes every week."

Harry smiled at him and looked down again at his plate. "Have you been sleeping any better?"Harry hesitated but then nodded, still picking at his dish. "A bit, yea. I don't wake up quite as early I guess.""No dreams today then?"  
Louis could tell Harry didn't want to talk about it anymore but he couldn't help that he still worried. It hadn't been that long after all.  
"No, last night night was fine."Louis hated seeing Harry get quiet and sad.  
"Harry..I'm sorry I just..I worry, you know."Harry looked up at him, a small sad smile on his face. "I know. I do, Louis. I know.""I love you Harry, I'm glad you're doing so much better," Louis reached over and squeezed Harry's hand.  
"I love you, Louis. Thank you."

The first time Harry had finally told Louis he loved him was in his bedroom four days into his detox. He had had a terrible day, full of screaming crying fits and he and Louis were both exhausted from it all. He was laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, Louis leaning against the bedroom door. Harry had calmed down enough and through the two hours they sat there silently, Harry recalled everything and realized how much he wanted to get clean for Louis. It had been the first clear thought Harry had, and he hadn't even hesitated saying it. And Louis just looked at him, confused first, then rolling his eyes and standing to his feet. He looked at Harry and raised his eyebrow and said "Yea? Well I'm sure I fucking love you more, bastard."

Harry and Gemma had gotten close too. She was clean too and they were able to bond over the pain of losing their mother and the pain of losing themselves to heroin. They had a substantial amount of long heart to hearts where they talked about fears and dreams and reminisced about their mum and cried and laughed and it was good. It had been a bit awkward at first, mostly for Harry since he struggled so greatly with opening up to people, but they really got to know each other again, or for the first time really, and it was good for Harry to have someone there who really understood it all. Louis was always there but it was hard for him to understand certain things. Harry almost felt as though he and Gemma had never drifted apart. 

The funeral arranging was hard. Ultimately, they opted for a more untraditional approach. Gemma had suggested cremating Anne and Harry had gone along with it and they decided on spreading her ashes at the beach where they had spent their last summer before she got sick. Harry fell completely in love with the idea. The thought of being able to take the morbidity out of visiting his mum was probably exactly what he needed then. Instead of visiting at a depressing grave site that was so, hopelessly full of death he could go sit on the beach and stare at the ocean, the magnificence that it was. It was strong and powerful and brave, just like their mum. And Harry liked the idea of being able to talk to her there, seeing her in every drop of the ocean, feeling her there in every wave, the sea forever keeping her alive. To Harry it was a beautiful site. 

The actual burial itself was extremely hard for Harry. Gemma had offered to wait until after he had been clean for a while, but Harry insisted on doing after only six days. He was tired and weak and hopelessly emotional and being out in the real world again was scary. He was sure he cried through he entire process, the beauty and calmness of the ocean not enough to stop the constant flow of tears even momentarily.  
They kept the ceremony private, just Gemma, her boyfriend Nate, Harry, Louis and Alex. However, their mum was so well loved by everyone that they ended up arranging a small, but equally nice remembrance ceremony in the hospital, so that her friends there were too ill to leave the hospital could say their goodbyes. Harry had no problem with that. He was just glad they were able to convince Dean that that was the only ceremony, since he insisted on going. Harry wished he would stop bothering to pretend to be upset and wished that no one had even told Dean she was gone. But it was hospital policy so Harry didn't have a say. 

By any means, Harry went home from saying goodbye to his mother a complete and total wreck. In fact, that was the worst day he had had getting sober and he was quite certain had Louis not been there, he would have went out and probably killed himself with drugs within an hour's time.  
But Louis had been there and Louis had held him as he cried and stopped him when he stormed around, threatening to leave and get high. Louis had this impeccable knack for keeping his cool and staying calm, because he knew in those situations he had to, and stuck to whispering sweet nothings and promises in Harry's ear while stroking his hair, and that worked. It always did. And Harry wasn't sure why it did but it just filled this part of him, however small, with hope that everything could be okay. 

Harry had gotten a part time job at a small bakery around the corner from Louis' tattoo shop. Harry had found it hard at first, committing to something and having to be responsible, and dealing directly with people, but he got the hang of it and got a routine going and he clung to it. Harry found he really liked working there. He found it inspiring, almost, to be there in the early morning and take out all the sad looking dough and watch it all get made into beautiful, tasty treats. Harry liked it because it made him think that he, like the dough, had the chance now to be made into something beautiful too. He started to take his job very seriously, becoming quite passionate about the treats and tarts and breads, forming a strange connection with the ones he made himself, and with the customers he sold them too. It wasn't by any means a job he would have forever, but it was what he needed right then. Harry even started to think that he could open up his own bakery one day, with Louis. A Styles-Tomlinson family business.  
Louis had loved the idea and nominated himself to paint a mural of Harry on the biggest wall of the place.

~

Harry got out of the shower and heard Louis on the phone. He was talking low and Harry couldn't tell if it was intentional or not but Louis hadnt noticed him in the hallway so he inched closer to the kitchen.   
"No I just don't think he's ready for that, alright?...  
Well you aren't the one who's with him all the time. You aren't there for the nightmares and the urges and all that...  
Yes, he IS better, he's doing better but he's not there yet...  
Well for fuck's sake he isn't a fucking box that you can just tape back together and it's fine! He isn't ready.."

Harry took a step back and quickly and quietly made his way into the bedroom. He locked the door and layed back on the bed sighing. It had been weeks, not perfect weeks, but it had been fucking weeks since he used or even really wanted to. Harry sighed in frustration wondering how long it would be until Louis stopped treating him like the broken fragments he tried ignoring he still was.


	15. Chapter 15

"Earth to Harry. Anyone alive in there?"  
"Huh?"  
"We're goin' now, you coming?"  
"Oh, uh yea."

Harry didn't mind going to his Narcotics Anonymous meetings alone anymore. He had met a couple other regulars in there who he was friendly with, though unlike the rest of them he had no intentions of ever calling any of them his friends. Usually Louis would drop everything and go along with him, but he had a 6 hour piece he was working on and Harry had told him it was fine a dozen times before Louis agreed. (Harry also ignored the fact that Louis probably still didn't trust him to really go if he was on his own.)  
He had sat silently through the first half of the meeting, mostly listening but partly zoning out.  
Harry knew he wasn't ready to go completely off onto his own so he knew he still had a place there. But there was a few new people and a few people who had relapsed and Harry was just feeling bored and slightly out of place hearing their stories, because he wasn't living it anymore. 

Yes, Harry was still an addict. He would always be an addict. But he was recovering and hearing the same story from a new person every week wasn't helping him. And Harry wasn't sure why he was feeling so off in that particular moment. He wasn't necessarily down or sad, but somewhat with a mixture of annoyance thrown in. He didn't recall if he had woken up that way or if group had put him in it, but he was feeling quite utterly sick of his entire stupidly pathetic life.  
Nonetheless, when everyone went out for a smoke Harry went along, attempting to pretend to be social, sitting on the steps holding the same cigarette in his hand the entire time, not paying attention to anything anyone was saying. 

When he was finally snapped back to reality, he found it completely burnt out still between his fingers. He threw it to the ground and contemplated skipping out on the rest of the meeting. But he knew Louis wouldn't like that so he let out a sigh and followed the others back in. 

~

"Harry Styles you make a sick tart man, I'll give you that," Nick pointed at Harry only pausing to take another bite. "You're entire life might be a massive bloody mess, but fuck me this shit is top notch."  
Harry scoffed but he couldn't hide the smirk forming. Nick had that effect on people.  
"Yea well considering you're getting it for free I don't think you'd complain."  
"Wouldn't I then?"  
Harry rolled his eyes. "You're right. You certainly would. Tosser. "  
Nick blew a kiss and Harry looked at the clock.  
"Breaks over I've got to get back. "  
Nick nodded in understanding and waved him on, attention on the food in his dish.  
"That means you've got to LEAVE," Harry said pushing Nick towards the exit. "Nice of you to stop by see ya!"  
Nick exited with a smirk and a wave and Harry went back to the front of the store and took his place behind the counter. 

The truth is no one would have noticed if he took a few minutes longer on his break. Harry chose not to. He chose the routine and the schedule and he liked having that definite unchanging thing in his life. It was a reason to stay strong. If he felt like he wanted to use he couldn't just say oh no one would notice if I took another 10 minutes and shot up. They would notice, at least in Harry's mind they would. And he couldn't do that. And maybe he knew that it wasn't entirely true but he ignored that because he needed the constant being that would stop him if nothing else. It was something like a safety net.

Harry was busy refilling the shelves behind the counter when he heard a man call for his attention. He turned to find a familiar face that he couldn't place.  
"Hi can I help you?"  
The bloke paused slightly seemingly to study Harry's face. Harry still couldn't place him.  
"Uh yea, yes sorry. Can I have a loaf of the rye."  
It wasn't until Harry had given him his change and they exchanged have a nice days that Harry could place the face. He looked like someone he knew. Someone he once loved, or something like that.  
"Wait!"  
The man turned slowly.  
"Uh sorry..um you're..Effy's brother, aren't you?"  
Harry almost seemed afraid of the answer, afraid that the man would have know what he did and exploded on him. What happened wasn't what he was anticipating. 

He watched the man stiffen and nod, just once.  
"You're Harry."  
It wasn't really a question just a sentence spoken in an eerily grim tone that made Harry uneasy.  
"I..yea..sorry I don't remember your name. I know Effy told me but.."  
He trailed off and watched the man still staring off to the side of Harry, fixated on nothing.  
"Liam"  
"Right right Liam. So uh how is Effy? I was meaning to call and catch up- well I mean see if she would want to..."  
Harry stopped when he felt himself rambling but when he saw Liam begin to tear up he felt his chest tighten as he held his breath. Something wasn't right.  
"I'm uh..sorry I mean.."  
Harry didn't understand. 

Liam looked at Harry for the first time since they started talking, his state hard but sad. Harry watched it turn to something close to sympathy as he kept rambling apologies that he couldn't justify.  
"Harry..she's gone."  
"Oh um gone where? With your dad?"  
Liam smiled a horribly sad smile and Harry struggled to understand why.  
"No," Liam's voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "She's gone Harry. She..she's just gone.."

It wasn't until Harry watched a single peaceful tear fall from Liam's eye and roll down his cheek that he understood.  
"Wh-what? What? What happened? How can.."  
Liam shut his eyes tight, his voice an actual whisper that time.  
Harry listened to Liam explain what happened.  
He listened to his tear stricken voice say she took her own life.  
He heard that Liam was the one who had gotten home and found her lifeless body on the bathroom floor.  
He heard how she had written "I just loved him so much" in her own blood on the tile beside her.  
He imagined Liam, the loving brother, trying himself to revive her, to get her to just take one breath of air.  
He imagined what her body must have looked like, draining of blood turning pale.  
He imagined Liam must have had her blood all over his clothes by the time he got done holding her close to him in the last embrace they'd ever get.  
He imagined how he wished it was him instead if her, because this was his fault- really his fault- and how he must certainly be living in hell. 

Harry felt like he was going to either pass out of throw up, which ever happened to come first. In a complete shock he heard his voice tell Liam how sorry he was. He heard him tell Liam over and over how sorry he was for his part in it, for not being there to help. For not even being around to go to the funeral. He heard Liam mutter understandings and try his best attempt at reassuring Harry it wasn't his fault, that she was long sense withdrawn and most likely depressed. He tried, as much as a heartbroken and traumatized brother could. Harry was grateful for Liam's reaction and he heard himself mutter something expressing that. He watched Liam leave. He watched the door close. He felt time standing totally still. He felt the room start to sway. He felt his knees hit the tiled floor and his mind stuck on a constant loop of flickering film showing a bolded "WHY" over and over because even his mind couldn't speak.

~

Harry woke up and found himself in his bed. He sat up, confusion surrounding him until the fog in his mind cleared enough to display EFFY.  
"Oh you're awake."  
Louis' kind eyes made Harry feel like he could put the guard he hadn't realized he had up down. Louis' arms around him opened the flood gates and the sobs poured out of him faster than he could comprehend. He was sad, so sad that someone he shared so much with was gone, and gone before he could make it right. But he was also scared. He was scared of feeling. He was petrified of feeling the extremities that come with loss, he knew them well. He was scared of breaking and losing everything again and he was scared of losing Louis because Louis was everything to him.Louis was everything he had left.  
Still in a daze Harry was almost unaware that he spoke of all his fears out loud until he heard Louis whispering "I know babe I know" in his ear and rocking him in a hug. 

~

Harry woke up in a cold sweat to piercing blue eyes haunting him.  
For the fourth time that week.  
"Hey you alright babe?"  
Harry was just glad it was the middle of the night because he was getting sick of seeing blue eyes. He found it almost ironic how he always loved how full of life Louis' eyes were and how bright they shined but now all he could see when his eyes locked on Louis' were the eyes of everyone he once loved and could never see again. 

~

Work was tiring.  
Days were long.  
Nights were sleepless.  
It was all too much. 

Harry felt all too similar to a pre fight club Insomnia fueled zombie, only he didn't have the luxury of having Ed Norton play the role for him. Nothing seemed real anymore because everything that happened, everything he saw and heard and said, went through his mind in a fog, a dream like state that felt more like a nightmare. 

Harry was noticeably exhausted, that day in particular as he had briefly fallen asleep with his head in his hands, elbow leaning right on the front counter. Diane sent him home right after finding him but Harry didn't want to go home. So he walked. And he walked and walked until he felt like his legs were going to collapse and break into a million pieces.  
He hadn't meant to end up where he did. In a complete daze his fragile shaking legs just took him, and he just ended up in his old stomping grounds. He hadn't meant to see anyone he used to associate with. He hadn't meant to be at that spot.  
Or maybe he had. Maybe he subconsciously led himself there. Maybe it was a test from some greater force. Harry wasn't sure but his thoughts were interrupted by another voice.

"Hey."

Harry knew what was coming. He knew all about it, far too well. He had been the desperate addict jumping out of his skin on the bench. He had been that dealer, dilated pupils and anxious eyes glancing around, nervous hand grasping and un grasping the contents in his pocket. But that wasn't him anymore. He wasn't that dealer or that addict anymore, he was better than that. Or at least that's what Dave from group kept trying to convince him each week. 

"You lookin'"

WAS he looking? Had he somehow, without his conscious consent led himself there, to that same spot looking to score? Or had it all been coincident; Harry's body and subconscious unwilling to let go of old habits and forget that all his walks would find him in that very spot.

Harry wasn't sure when he started running, physically running as fast as he could, until his lungs started closing in on themselves, screaming at him for a break. For a brief moment Harry thought maybe he was having a heart attack. He thought maybe he didn't even care but apparently his heart was fine, aside from feeling way less than whole.

~

"Harry? Where are you?"  
Harry sighed into the pillow, pushing himself further into it.  
"Harry?"  
He felt the mattress lower as Louis sat down.  
"Are you alright love?"  
He felt Louis' hand rub his shoulder. He held his breath.  
"I'm not mad love. I'm happy that you called, really."  
Harry wanted to scoff. Instead he let out the breath he'd been holding.  
"I know I say it all the time but, Harry I'm so proud of you. You're doing so well and I know it's not easy but I see how hard you're trying and you don't have to. I see it Harry. I love you so much babe."  
Harry pushed himself farther into the mattress wishing it would swallow him whole and he would disappear. He had left his boyfriend the shell of who he was, nothing more than an entity constantly spewing inspirational quotes from a rehab pamphlet like first nature.  
Harry felt his skull crack, his head nothing more than a heavy bowl of blood pouring out all his sockets.  
"I'm here babe I'm always here."  
He felt the blood seeping from his eyes turn into salty tears.

He wasn't aware that his body was shaking until he heard Louis whispering a mantra of "shh, shh, love I'm here."  
As comforting as it was, somehow it made it worse. Harry was happy Louis was there because he did help, but it wasn't fair. Louis' supposed to be his boyfriend not his on call therapist. Harry just wished Louis would leave and let him be alone and deal with this himself. 

"What was that babe?"  
He wasn't aware he had spoken but through broken sobs muffled by sheets and mattress, he repeated it.  
"I feel so dirty. You're so pure and so clean and I can never clean it enough."  
Louis snapped immediately back into his comforting soothing words he repeated almost daily but he didn't know. Harry had said IT not ME because he knew the addict part of him would always be filthy. He could never be pure and squeaky and shining like Louis because he'll always be an addict.  
He'll always remember things he's seen and done and said. He'll remember what he felt. And who he hurt. All the times he stole and lied and hurt people and himself.  
Who he killed.  
Part of him will always be dirty past the point of cleansing. 

~

"Babe, you awake?"  
"Yea," Harry mumbled, unmoving, unblinking and not shifting his body or his focus from the closet to Louis in the doorway.  
"I'm gonna call out and then I'll make us some breakfast. What would you like, I'll make ya anything your little heart desires."  
Harry could hear Louis' smile because Louis was trying like he always did but Harry didn't feel like trying or playing along.  
"Don't call out Louis. I don't want you staying here to watch me. I don't even want to be here all day. I'm going to work."  
Louis frowned at Harry's dry, lifeless tone. "Harry I don't think you're in any state to go to work and if you need me-"  
"Louis," Harry said abruptly, turning off his side and lifting his body onto his elbow towards Louis. "I need the distraction, okay? Can you trust me, or fucking pretend like you do for thirty seconds, please."

Harry knew Louis didn't deserve that but he couldn't take it. Since he had gotten clean Louis began treating him like a child, like he wasn't capable of even breathing on his own and it was suffocating Harry, who was still trying to sort his feelings about Effy enough to even _feel_ them.  
"Look I'm sorry, I just. I'm okay. Really. I just want to be at work and have a distraction and still feel like a normal functioning part of society. If I fucking lose it later I promise you'll be the first one alerted."  
"Harry," Louis said sitting on the bed next to him. "I'm just worried about you. It's okay to not be okay. You shared a lot with her and a lot of things were left unresolved and I get it. Maybe I can't personally understand fully but I can imagine. And I just want to help- I want you to let me help, and just be honest with me. If you want to go to work, good that's all fine. But if you're just putting up a front for me, I do understand Harry."

Harry shouldn't have been so annoyed because really he knew that. He knew Louis was understanding and there like a fucking rock in the ground for him. "Well I'm not I just really want to go to work. And besides it's fucking half four A.M, what the fuck else am I gonna do all bloody day?"

So Louis dropped Harry off and work and told him again, only twice, that he'd be there half a second if Harry needed it. Surprisingly, Harry found work was a good distraction. He didn't think about Effy, or really about anything at all other than what he was doing. He kept himself busy the entire day, met Louis for lunch and actually had a decent laugh and he thought maybe he was okay now; maybe he was stronger and could handle more. (He also thought maybe that was just the calm before the storm.)

"Harry? Is everything okay?"  
"Everything's fine, Louis relax. I just got back to the flat but I was thinking about maybe going for a bite with Alex later? What time will you be home?"  
"I think I'm gonna be kinda late tonight, if this bloke doesn't cancel for the third time. Unless you need me sooner, it's totally fine."  
Harry hated how fast Louis said it.  
"No, no I'm fine, really. I just, I think it'll be a good distraction. And I haven't seen him much lately, with his new professional job and that."  
Harry was faking his light tone and he felt guilty because Louis deserved sincerity.  
"Yea. Yea, no you're right. You lads go and have a laugh and maybe I can meet up with you, if you want."  
"Yea that'd be good. Uh, call when you're done?"  
"Of course. Call if you need me?"  
"Of course."  
Harry hung up with sweaty palms and a knot in his stomach because it was the first time he'd lied to Louis since he'd been clean.

Harry left the flat and began walking. Just walking, making sure to not to let his body lead him somewhere he wouldn't want to be. He just wanted a night to himself, a night that he could just be alone and think and clear his head. Louis wouldn't trust him doing that for half an inch so Harry knew if he thought he was with Alex, of all people, he wouldn't worry.  
He was also vaguely aware if Louis found out, he probably wouldn't ever trust him again for shit. 

~

Louis heard the front door open and close and his eyes fluttered open. He didn't mind, as he had already been half way awake and he assumed it to not be all that late anyway. But mostly it meant he got to see Harry so really how could he be mad even if he did lose some of his beauty sleep?  
To be honest, Louis still hadn't gotten used to the fact that Harry lived with him. It seemed so weird to think they had started where they were and ended up at this; a normal, functional relationship. Almost.

Louis rolled over on his side towards the hallway and watched Harry slump in and bend down to kiss Louis' forehead, mumbling a hello before heading towards the bathroom. Louis noticed that Harry seemed to be quite tired, but he hadn't been able to blatantly smell alcohol on him so he didn't think he was drunk. All he had smelled were cigarettes and Harry which had become Louis' favorite smell in the world. 

He watched Harry turn on the bathroom light, leaving the door open as he got his toothbrush. Louis smiled to himself, still giddy at the fact that he got to see that; he got to watch Harry's last movements at night, and his first ones in the morning. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was.  
Louis watched Harry take the toothpaste bottle and squeeze two dabs on, as Louis noted he always did in the exact same manner. Louis thought it was adorable.  
He watched Harry try to put the toothpaste in the toothbrush holder instead of the shelf. And Louis was just about to get up and go mock Harry for being so out of it when he saw something that was painfully familiar. Louis watched Harry begin to brush his teeth, slowly moving the toothbrush ever so slightly back and forth. He watched Harry's eyes begin to roll back in his head and his body begin to sway, the sink in front of him catching him. Louis would have been concerned but as he saw Harry's hand still mindlessly brushing at his teeth, he leaped out of bed in heart breaking realization.  
"No, no, no, no! You promised Harry, you promised!"  
But Harry was too high to notice, off somewhere in a blissful wonderland while Louis had just literally woken up into his worst nightmare all over again. 

~

Harry woke up and rolled himself, tired and weak out of bed. He found Louis sitting at the kitchen table flipping through the newspaper and Harry groaned to himself figuring it must be quite early and wondering why his body had woken him up at that time.  
"Morning," he said sitting down across from Louis.  
"Afternoon actually."  
Harry shot his head up at Louis' tone and the news.  
"Is it?" He asked with genuine confusion. "Time is it?"  
Louis set the paper down hard and Harry felt his stomach twist.  
"Nearly 2."  
"Why aren't you at work then?"  
"Dunno Harry. Why'd you come home stoned out of your mind last night?"  
Harry hadn't remembered Louis being awake and shit.  
"Lou, I'm-"  
"Don't bother Harry. I don't give a shit if you're sorry, alright? You fucking promised me. You promised I didn't go through all of it for nothing. How could you do that Harry, why?"  
"Lou I know..it just. It was a mistake okay? A huge mistake..it just happened and fuck, I'm sorry. It's not gonna happen again."  
"Do you even know how many times you've told me that, Harry?"

"You listen to me Harry. I'm not doing it again- I can't and I won't. So you choose then, alright? You choose either that or me because you can't have your candy and eat it too. Not again."  
Harry just looked at Louis with wide scared eyes and then looked down at the table. He understood, he really did. It was Louis, who didn't though.

"You knew Louis." Harry said it quietly, looking down at the table.  
Louis just looked at him, squinting his eyes in confusion. But then he caught on and his expression hardened again.  
"Yea Harry. Yea, I really fucking knew you were addicted to heroin, fucking trust me. I know better than anyone else and why? Because I sat with you and cleaned after you for days. I changed my entire life, for you Harry, to be there for you- to keep an eye on you, really. Because you couldn't be trusted for shit. And I guess that didn't change."

"I helped you get clean- fuck, Harry, I _got_ you clean. Me. I did it all for you. I helped keep you away from that shit, I stayed in the fucking flat for an entire week and half extra, not leaving because you couldn't. And I finally think I can trust you enough to leave the house on your fucking own, I try to respect you and treat you like an adult who can take care of himself, and this is what you do? _This?_ "

Harry just sat, sad and quiet still not daring to look up.  
"I always choose you Louis.."  
Louis laughed and it was short and cold and it made Harry want to cry.  
"You never choose me Harry. If it's between me and that, it always wins. You have to go to it it be reminded that you want me more. I don't even think you do."  
Harry slumped down in his chair.  
"Why wasn't I enough?"  
Harry took his bottom lip is his teeth.  
"Why wasn't I enough anymore that you needed that instead of me?"  
Harry bit down, hard because he needed to hurt.  
"I know you're hurting over what happened but I thought we were past this Harry. I've done everything I possibly could to be there and help you and you told me over and over you were fine. So why?"Harry didn't have anything to say and he didn't need to look up to know Louis was crying.  
"Or was this it the whole time? Was everything a fucking lie and this was the plan all along- to wait until you had me convinced you wanted to stop, then just run right back to it?"

He heard Louis get up and walk away. He knew he had broken Louis again. He knew he needed to fix it. But Harry sat slumped at the kitchen table, picking at his hands and facing the floor as he began to cry himself, because for the first time in weeks he wanted to get high over being with Louis.


	16. Chapter 16

Louis didn't look at Harry, who wanted desperately to know what he was doing. Harry didn't ask. He just kept watching.

"Get up."  
Wide eyed scared was all Harry could manage.   
"Harry," Louis huffed. "Get the fuck up."  
Harry saw Louis holding a now filled duffle bag.  
"Why?"  
"Get the fuck up. Now."  
Harry didn't like this side of Louis. Harry wished he was high.

"Look either you get up on your own and come on or I'll go call every fucking person I know to come here and we will all carry you out of this fucking bedroom."

Harry hesitated, swallowed hard.   
"Why Louis? What is this?"  
It was barely a whisper. Tears might have been sensed but Louis stayed hard, unfaltering. "This is you going to rehab."  
Harry should have seen it coming but right then all he could see was panic through eyes that couldn't possibly be any wider.  
"W-what? Louis, no. No! Come on," Harry ran his hands through his hair frantically, thinking."Lou no. I stopped before on my own, yea? I've only done it once, that's it. I don't need rehab I won't do it again. I swear."  
Louis didn't look at Harry, couldn't look at him.   
"Your promises are nothing Harry," it was low and sad, just like the realization. "You promised me a lot. It's only a matter of time before you break this one too."

Harry felt his heart get shot at, canon ball blasted, breaking into a million pieces that shot out at light speed and got stuck into every part of body. His body was already craving a hit but watching Louis so broken, the very opposite of the lively beauty that Harry had initially been so attracted to was paralyzing.   
"Louis.." Harry felt drained. Suddenly too heavy and tired to move or speak or do anything.   
"Louis," he tried again, this time breaking down into tears and folding down onto his knees.   
Louis didn't comfort him and the fact that Harry knew he was right not too just made him cry harder. He was fucked and he deserved it.   
But suddenly something clicked.   
"Louis," he dried his eyes and caught his breath. "If I..I just mean I..I already ruined this..us.."   
It hurt just to admit it out loud even though they both knew it. "Why don't I just...I mean I can't just..I can't see it anymore Louis. You were so bright and pure and I just broke you down to dirt and I can't do that anymore and I always will. You can't be around something so unclean for so long and expect to not get dirty. "

"That's the stupidest thing I ever fucking heard Harry." Louis said while walking into the other room and closing the door.   
Harry wondered if he was high, if he was missing something because this all felt like a David Lynch film and Harry was too tired to try and figure it out.   
His phone rang.

"Hello?"  
"Haz!"  
Harry paused at the eerily cheery voice. "Are you done yet, come on I'm outside waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see your hot ass and tear it up."  
"Louis?"  
"Don't start that shit again Haz," the voice laughed, loud and cheery. High off love. Something Harry remembered vaguely. "Come on though we're gonna be late."

Harry heard the phone line go dead in his ear and in a state of utter confusion he hung up the phone and looked around. He wasn't in he and Louis' bedroom. He wasn't in the flat at all. He threw his feet over the side of bed and felt cold tile, not Louis' soft, color coordinated carpets. There was a series of pills and alcohol on the end stand, but what stood out the most was a photo from seemingly ages ago.   
Then it all came back to him. 

It wasn't the first time Harry had had a dream like that. A nightmare, really. He found the pills did that to him, made it harder to tell what was real and what wasn't. He guessed maybe he was still hoping to one day wake up in Louis' arms and find out the past three and a half months had been what wasn't real. He felt the lump in the back of his throat start up and he picked up a few pills, dry swallowing them. It was a sick way to live, but that was why he kept Louis' picture there. A reminder why he needed to hurt and a reminder of how fucked he is. Louis wasn't just the love of his life, he was his entire life. He gave him reasons to live. He gave him hope. He quite literally fixed him and gave him the best months of his life, and while he was sober too. And even more so than that Louis represented Harry's filth. Harry had took pure, bright shining Louis who just wanted to help and crushed him into pieces so deformed they would never be healed and he could never be whole again. Harry was a monster, and Louis was innocent beauty and good intentions. Harry kept the picture of Louis on the night stand because he needed to wake up every day feeling the pain of guilt. Harry wasn't allowed to wake up happy, high or not, because of what he had done. 

Harry didn't really like Ed. In fact Harry was so emotionally numb from what had happened that he was sure it wasn't possible for him to like anyone. But Ed gave him drugs and gave him a place to live and so Harry let him fuck him occasionally. It wasn't awful, but it always, always made him think of Louis.   
Ed was fun, the way Harry would say he was before what happened. Before Louis.   
Before Harry knew what it was like to be whole.  
He was the kind of person everyone wanted because he just let off a cool, I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-anything and I seem pretty arrogant because I might be vibe. The vibe that first led him to hooking Louis, seemingly cool as a cucumber after Louis and his dick had caught him doing meth in a dirty bathroom. He took one look at Louis and knew his type; knew he was out of his league. But Harry flirted along like he was something Louis wanted and it wasn't entirely due to the drugs. Harry had learned to put up a front, an act to seem less broken and it mostly worked. People always wanted to party with Harry Styles because he's "such a cool lad, a real laugh, that one."

Only Louis ever knew the real Harry. A Harry that even he himself would never see again because he was killed that same night. 

Harry met Ed at a party he had crashed, really. He had gotten hopelessly fucked up and while half the people there hated him (who the fuck is this idiot get him out!) the other half ate it up (you're hilarious! Whats your name..)  
Harry couldn't recall exactly when he and Ed started talking but they had. And Ed seemed to like him and Harry was high and vulnerable and lonely and had nothing at all to lose anymore so he went back to his flat. And they did exactly two more shots before Harry blacked out. When he woke up, Ed never told him to leave and he kind of never really did. 

Ed was mostly into pills. He didn't like to bother with shooting up and didn't fancy snorting anything, unless it was occasionally. Harry didn't mind. He wasn't paying for the pills himself and he could pretty much find the same high in at least some of them as he could in H. A numb, fucking high.  
Ed had first kissed Harry when he was on actual Heroin. Harry went along with it and Ed told him he liked him and he would take care of him. Harry wanted to throw up because all he could picture was Louis' face. The difference was that Louis had meant he wanted to fix Harry. He learned that Ed's idea of taking care of him was literally taking care of him enough to get him back home safely. Harry didn't really notice how Ed never got as fucked up as anyone else. He didn't know that that was part of Ed's promise; staying sober enough to get Harry home alright because was never sober at all and never alright. It was nice, really, but Harry was too numb to even notice it was happening. The first time he let Ed fuck him, Harry had gotten so massively fucked up that he was sure he's missing at least two entire days from his memory. 

Ed knew about Louis. At least, he knew that there was a Louis from all of the times Harry had mistakenly called him that or asked about him or mentioned him, as reason to why he was such a shit person who deserved to die (which only happened 5 times when he was massively wasted).  
But he didn't care. He still got to fuck Harry, gently because Harry was fragile and he was okay with that. Harry was beautiful in a tragic way, so horribly broken and mysterious that Ed found such peaceful beauty in his lifeless eyes and sorrowful stare. He even wrote a song about him after the third day he knew him. He was calling it The A Team.   
Harry thought Ed had a nice voice but it wasn't Louis. Louis' shrill tone that he got when he was drunk, or orgasming was something that couldn't be matched.   
Harry turned off his mind with the shower nozzle. He only allowed himself a maximum of ten minutes a day thinking about Louis like that. He chose to do so in the shower, when he was alone and could really think (and really picture Louis the right way). Anything after that, he either took a pill or a shot every time he thought of Louis. 

So yea, Harry had progressively digressed. He was more of a mess than he ever was and he had literally nothing to lose so rock bottom was a home. He spent day and night as a combined thing; getting high and getting drunk and sleeping, in whatever order presented itself that day. He wasn't really living, wasn't really a person anymore. He was a shell. A zombie.   
And he didn't care.   
He put on some clothes and went to meet Ed outside to go to a "friend's" house. It really meant they were going to sit in someone's basement that Harry probably didn't know, because he never knew any of the too many "friends" Ed had, because he didn't even know Ed himself at all. He liked it better that way. 

~

"Come on you fucking pathetic twat. Enough of this."  
Louis rolled his eyes as Nick continued to yell at himself. It was Friday night and for lack of something better to do he found himself, once again, playing poker at Nick's. Nick was losing, as he always did considering he was an absolute shit poker player and Louis wondered why he always insisted on playing.   
It had been 111 days since he last saw Harry. He shouldn't know that. But he did. He knew it down to the hour.   
It was 12:10 am.  
In exactly 2 hours and 37 minutes it would become 112 days. 

It didn't get any easier but Louis was okay. He was a substantially less vibrant, more reserved version of himself. He wasn't the life of the party anymore, he was the bloke you might not have noticed sitting in the back only half way smiling at the joke that has everyone else laughing. It wasn't a way to live, but it was better than sitting at home alone, never bothering with these social activities. 

Louis wasn't angry. He was just sad.   
He doesn't think he was ever actually angry, although he should have been. He might have pretended to be, for a minute or two, but he wasn't. Even considering...  
But the details didn't matter so there was no point looking into it. The fact would remain the same.  
Harry Styles was gone, for good, and had taken 87.99% of Louis with him. 

~

"Louis?"  
Harry shot up as a wave of exhaustion and nausea overcame him.  
"Hey, it's alright."  
Ed never understood what caused Harry to wake up so frantic sometimes, but he tried to help.  
"What happened," Harry said looking around him to find he was on the couch, not the bed.  
Ed shrugged. "Had to pretty much carry you up here, and you might not weigh much but you're still bloody tall. My arms needed a break and you fell right to sleep here."  
Harry knew he should feel bad. Or at least thank Ed. But there was some part of this unspoken arrangement that Harry didn't have to say anything and Ed didn't need him to.   
"Speaking of eating, how 'bout it?"  
Harry was looking at his hands, thinking about Louis like he always did after first waking up, his dreams forever haunting him. The last thing he wanted was food.   
"Come on Haz. What's it been now, three days at least?"  
Harry didn't even know. Eating, like everything else, wasn't something that mattered. Nothing mattered without Louis. Harry was sure if he were to die, it wouldn't matter either.   
"Come on then," Ed said pulling him up. "You're eating today."  
Harry could only picture Louis as Ed led him into the kitchen, sitting him down on the chair asking him what he wanted. All he could picture was Louis reaching up into a cabinet on his tippy-toes, smiling at him when Harry laughed at him. Kissing him when Harry went to help him. Smiling during the kiss because they were happy. So happy and so in love. 

Harry pictures his insides as rotten, black, dead. That was how he felt without Louis and with the drugs, which didn't help. What would food matter? It was like watering a dead plant.

~

Louis found it odd how it's been five months and he could still feel the remnants of Harry in his veins. He doesn't try to get it to go away though, because it's become a part of him. Except when Nick convinces him to go out with some bloke he set him up with. Louis eventually agrees, not because he wants to but because Nick wore him down.  
Stan is nice. He's fit. Stan's a nice bloke and they had a nice time and they actually had quite a lot to talk about. It was nice.  
And that's what he tells Nick when he gets home. It was nice, he had a good time. He's actually thinking that maybe he had a great time and he fancies Stan and thinks he's the kind of mate he wants in his life, but he doesn't say that. Because there is no great. There's only one thing in Louis' life that was great and that memory can't be tampered with or replaced. Stan's a nice guy, but he just isn't Harry. 

~

Harry thought a lot about Effy. How he wished she was still around. How he wished he could have fixed things, ended them better. He really liked her, he liked being around her and having her in his life. But it wasn't like with Louis. And it wasn't Harry's fault that he couldn't see it until he found Louis, until he experienced what real love actually was.   
He wished he could have figured it out sooner. Maybe spared a lot of feelings. Maybe things would be different.  
But Harry doesn't regret the way it happened. He doesn't regret meeting both Effy and Louis. He doesn't think it would have been the same, nor any better if he would have met Louis first. Harry decides one day that he thinks it was inevitable for him and Effy to get tangled up in each other, because really that's all it was. Mad, twisting, substance fueled passion. And it was inevitable he would fall in love with Louis.   
Louis.  
Harry decides he cant get into that right now. He doesn't have to. And he doesn't feel like crying again today.

So instead he starts early. It's only half 10 am, but he's not up early. He hasn't slept. Ed's asleep and Harry's glad because he doesn't feel like having a babysitter follow him around. And he feels bad saying that because Ed takes care of him, he's done a shit ton for him in the short time they've known each other (not as much as Louis) and he's a laugh and doesn't lecture him or try to make him stop. He just keeps him company, tries to make him laugh and makes sure he gets home okay when he can't stand anymore.   
But Harry needs to be alone.

He grabs a bottle of vodka, securely places some pills in his pocket and after contemplating leaving it he takes his cell phone along because something just tells him to. 

~

Louis had spent the last two hours at Nick's trying to argue his case as to why he wasn't going to see Stan again. Nick, the bastard that he is, told Stan that he, Louis and Nick and a date would be all going out together that night. Louis didn't win the fight because the only real reason he had to not go was Harry and Nick said that didn't apply anymore.   
So Louis walked outside, spring air and tobacco smoke greeting him. As dirty as London might be there's something so peaceful about noon in London on a weekend in the early spring. It reminded Louis of a painting. He opted on the long route back to his flat, going through the park. Louis smiled, a real smile, as the sun beamed down warming his cheeks. He inhaled the flowers, the smoke. He watched people bustling around, children running. Young blokes passed out in a heap...

"Harry?"  
Louis felt his entire body go numb and freeze as his mind reassured him that his eyes were right.   
"Harry!"  
"Oh my god..what, are, Harry can you hear me?"  
"Louis?"  
His eyes weren't open and Louis' heart jumped at the thought that Harry could still tell it was him just by his voice.   
"Yea, yea it's me. Just stay with me, okay? For me."  
Louis had done it before. The words just came out but he still wanted them to be true. He wanted Harry to want to stay around for him. 

"Haz!"  
Louis looked up to a red haired bloke running over to them.   
"Come on then, wake up."  
He lightly slapped Harry's cheeks, causing his eyes to flutter.   
Louis just stared.   
"Come on Haz, get up let's go."  
"You know him?"   
Louis wanted to tell himself to shut the fuck up.  
"Yea, yea I live with him."  
Louis felt his chest tighten.  
"Thanks man."  
Louis should have walked away after that.   
"Sorry uh, how do you know him?"  
"I'm his roommate,"Ed answered, seemingly paying no attention to Louis' jealous boyfriend tone. He took a look at Ed's appearance. Shaggy hair, baggy clothes..yea seemed to be Harry's type of mate.  
"Ah, so is that just roommate or have you got a name."  
Louis silently cursed himself.  
"Sorry, do _you_ know him?"  
Louis glanced down at Harry again.   
"I used to, yea."  
"Ah, well I'm Ed.."  
"Louis."  
Ed shot his head up.  
"Wait, _you're_ Louis?"  
What did that mean? And why was Ed looking at him like that?  
"I, uh..yea..I..I've got to go."

Louis scurried away, not looking back. What did Ed know? Harry had talked about him? What had Harry told him? Why wasn't he even concerned that Harry was passed out? He didn't even check that he was okay.

Louis got into his flat, unaware of how he even got there. He locked himself in his room and after 23 minutes of blank staring, he broke down and buried himself in his bed, texting Nick that he was sick and shutting his phone and the lights in the flat off. 

~

"Hello?"  
He opens his eyes to the sound of banging. They burn from the sunlight seeping through the shut blinds, like it's been days since they've opened. He isn't sure how long it's been so he decides maybe it has been.  
"Come on, open the door"  
He sighs, shutting his eyes tight and willing himself to fall back to sleep.  
"I can hear your phone ringing when I call I know you're in there. Open up!"  
He isn't sure how long it goes on but once it feels like hours he decides he isn't going to let up. He crawls off the couch towards the door, duvet wrapped around him.   
"Jesus Lou, what the fuck?"  
Louis slinks back over to the couch leaving Nick standing alone in the open doorway to his dark and seemingly unnecessarily cold flat.   
"It's been days, nearly three. You haven't been to work, you haven't answered your phone for anyone, everyone's been worried."  
Louis sits down, still not looking in Nick's direction.  
"What the fuck's goin' on?"  
Louis thinks about saying he's fine or he's been sick but truthfully he doesn't care enough to attempt to lie. Instead he says nothing and leans back against the hard surface of the couch.   
"Lou? What's wrong, what is it?"  
Louis knew he must have looked fucking right awful by Nick's serious tone. He hardly ever used it.   
He shut his eyes tight, too tight, willing images of Harry and Ed to leave him alone.   
Of all the parks, of all the times of day, of all the days he decided he was in a good enough mood to bother walking through it. There was so much left to chance it was almost comical. Yet another reminder that the universe hated him.   
Harry was in his skin like a disease, stuck like glue to every cell he's made up of. Every breath Louis takes in, every sting of pain, every flash before his eyes of images he can't stand when he blinks. Harry Styles had been a plague from the day Louis met him. It just took him that long to see that's all it was. Louis was certain he would either die from it or be left a paralyzed, vegetable shell of a human. He's not sure which is the better option.

~

Nick tries to get Louis to open up, to talk about what caused him to break. Louis had always thought Harry had already broken him, but the truth is he was stronger than he gave himself credit for. He got himself together, enough to function and live a life without Harry. He was alright, better than he gave himself credit for. But there was so much Louis ignored boiling beneath the surface. Leftover trauma from a broken boyhood heart Louis was a fragile being. Harry, the thing that gave him life; real life. Harry, that breathed air into Louis' lungs so that he forgot how to do it for himself. Harry. His entire life. The thing that caused his mental breakdown. Two weeks since Nick found him at his flat. One week since he started talking again. 10 days into therapy. it wasn't living and it wasn't what he wanted and truthfully sometimes he thought about ending it. But he wasn't suicidal. He didn't want to die, he just wanted Harry's memory and smell and eyes to leave him, be completely and permanently erased from his memory. It made him cry for unnecessarily long amounts of time, not leaving his room which he made as dark as it could be made. Harry was everything he ever wanted; the absolute best thing that could have happened to him. _Could have._ The best thing in his life, the best thing he ever tasted, but it was never what he wanted and it was his fault. Once again Louis had set himself up to fail, running after a boy he could never have a happily ever after with.   
But Louis wasn't a boy anymore and he should have been looking for a man.  
Because Harry Styles wasn't that; he was a boy at heart, too young and too broken to grow up really. And above all that he was a drug addict. First and foremost, Dr. Parson showed him statistics. Drug addicts will always be just that before anything else. Everything else came second or not at all. Louis wasn't sure if Harry had ever loved him then. After all, Harry was exactly a statistic and not much more. (Other than everything he still wants more than his own will to live).   
Louis cried wondering if Harry was still alive. He looked awful at the park, worse than he had with Louis. Maybe Louis should have stayed with him. Should have tried to forgive him for..  
It was still to painful for Louis to think about. He hadn't told Nick, hadn't told anyone. Dr. Parson kept trying to inch him up to being ready to share it, but Louis knew it was hopeless. It was the day that changed him, the day that changed everything. Louis didn't need therapy to know what was wrong with him; he knew. He knew what was missing and he knew where to find it. Harry had taken the most crucial parts of his being that night. 

He wondered where it went wrong, because Harry had been doing so much better. He went to group more often and talked about his feelings about Effy's death and he didn't touch any drugs after the night he came home on heroin. It was shaky and rocky and uneven but Harry was trying and he didn't take anything out on Louis that time, not like the first time.   
Louis still blames himself. Still says he should have known Harry wasn't ready to be left alone like that. But it was one late night, one long session. They needed the money with Harry not working. 

He got out of the shop and checked his phone. Three missed calls. He should have been in more of a hurry. Harry didn't answer when he called back. He should have thought something was wrong, but he would be home soon enough.   
Except Harry wasn't home. The flat was trashed. There appeared to be blood on the bathroom wall, the light still on. Louis panicked. Louis thought that Harry was in trouble. That someone had broken in and attacked him. He called Harry, who again didn't answer. He thought about calling the police but he needed to find Harry first. Guilt built up higher and higher until it started oozing out all his sockets as he ran around the dark streets of London searching anywhere he thought Harry might have gone. He called Alex, called Nick, called everyone. No one had seen him. They offered to help. Louis was out for nearly four hours, searching until his legs went weak and he felt on the verge of a blackout. He decided to go back to the flat and call the police, reporting the assumed break in and Harry's disappearance.   
He walked in to the flat and Harry was there. He was relieved, until his eyes focused.   
It was Harry, standing next to the couch half naked, cuts on his arm and bruises on his chest. Harry's lips around a needle, his hands securing a tourniquet. Harry's eyes, dull and dark and lifeless sitting above tear stained cheeks. He hadn't noticed Louis yet.   
Harry, kissing someone who Louis hadn't noticed laying on the couch. Harry saying "I just want to fuck you like we used to, just for the last time. For one last time.." Louis was paralyzed. An invisible entity unable to look away.  
Harry, blood dripping from the seemingly self inflicted wounds on his forearm that he hadn't bothered to tend to. Louis wanted to rush over and kiss him and take the needle away and stop him from hurting. But Louis was frozen and Harry kept talking.   
"I love you..I just..Lou, I love you but..but I just.."  
Louis wasn't sure if Harry had been talking to him, that he'd noticed him. Or if he was talking to the bloke passed out on his couch. There was a used condom on the floor, a trail of blood that led into the bathroom where a razor blade Louis hadn't noticed before was on the floor. Louis felt like his world was turned upside down and he struggled to stay balanced. Harry. Harry. Harry.  
Harry had cheated on him.  
Harry was high.  
Harry had hurt himself, intentionally.  
Harry wanted to die. 

FUCK, Louis thought scrambling to find his phone and call the paramedics before it was too late. He rode in the ambulance, watching Harry laying still as a board the entire way. He waited outside the room as they revived him. He sat silently crying by Harry's side when he woke up. When he looked at Louis and said "I thought you were gone," and Louis didn't understand.  
"Why did you leave me, Lou. You said you wouldn't leave me."  
Louis didn't understand. Louis begged Harry to tell him what happened.   
"You were gone."  
Louis couldn't understand what he meant. "I was never gone Harry I've been here. I've always been here."

It wasn't until later that Louis found out the whole story. That Harry had been using the entire time. Different pills, pills that didn't have the same effect on Harry as they did on others. They made him see things that weren't there. He saw things, thought he saw things that made him hurt. More. Saw Louis, leaving. Saw Louis with someone else. None of it true. 

He had hallucinated while strung out at some random's place when he was supposed to be at a meeting. He thought the bloke was Louis. He fucked him, over and over and over the course of three weeks, almost never sober (and Louis hated himself for not noticing) his sense of reality nonexistent.   
He woke up that day, sober for the first time in eleven days and panicked. Louis wasn't there. Louis had left him. He needed to get Louis back. But he needed to get high first. He trashed the flat, in a manic desperation because he wanted two things so desperately that he knew he couldn't have together.   
He found a few pills, a few painkillers from too long ago and tried to call Louis.   
Three times.   
Three calls.   
Three slashes on his wrist for every time Louis didn't answer.   
Louis was gone.   
Harry needed a better high. He called his hook up, and begged him to make a house call. He took two pills and it was enough to get him fucked enough to see Louis' face again. But it wasn't enough to stop feeling. He fucked what he thought was Louis, for the last time, before he was going to go and end it all, for Louis he claimed, so Louis could finally be happy.   
And enter Louis, walking in to Harry shooting up the dose that was supposed to end his life.   
"I just wanted you to be happy.."

Temporary drug induced psychosis. That's what the doctors had said. And when Louis got back to Harry's room, he was gone. Had ran out of the hospital, past the guards with jeans on under his hospital gown and two mismatched socks.   
Louis tried to find Harry, tried to forgive him. For the constant lies and cheating. He tried to, because he couldn't fully blame Harry. He should have made him go to rehab like he wanted. But Harry looked scared and cried and promised Louis, empty false promises and Louis gave in. Harry was able to fake it all perfectly, and that's what started to pick away at Louis. Harry knew, He knew what he was doing. He was sick, yes, and Louis could have maybe done more to help him but Harry crossed the line. Louis wouldn't be able to ever trust him again.   
But still Louis tried, and he called and called Harry and searched for him. But Harry never answered. Louis was at work one day and had a missed call from a blocked number. A voicemail.  
A goodbye from Harry.   
A message saying, basically, Louis couldn't find him. Couldn't save him. Louis heard someone in the background, saying things into Harry's ear that once upon a time Harry would say to him.   
That's when he knew.  
He had lost Harry, for good. He was gone. He had taken off with a huge chunk of Louis and left him broken and empty with nothing but realization that everything had been a lie, a cover, a front. Harry Styles was a drug addict, first and foremost. They aren't capable of love.

The blinding, deafening love that Louis put into Harry couldn't ever be returned by him. He was too broken, too sad, too addicted. Louis should have known it. But he was blind to everything that wasn't the way Harry looked at him, the way Harry smiled at him. 

Louis sat on the bathroom floor, the same floor that still has traces of Harry's blood, vomiting into the toilet again like he does every time he thinks of what happened.   
He thought maybe it wasn't as life breaking as he made it out to be. But Dr. Parson agreed with him, said that the entire relationship had taken a hard tole in it's entirety and that that night had been the last straw. Dramatics and extremities and thinking Harry was going to die, even just knowing Harry had _wanted_ to, was harsh enough to break through and say "You Failed Again Louis. You couldn't save him. He never loved you like you loved him." And that inner voice was right. Harry loved Louis like he loved being high. Louis was just a replacement, a secondary high. A new addiction to replace the old ones.   
Louis felt like an empty, meaningless hole. Nothing. Space, if that. He had loved Harry, still loves Harry, with everything he possibly had. Hopes, dreams, aspirations, everything they had shared and talked about. Love. Love, love, love.   
It was too much to even fathom, that all of it, every bit wasn't true. How could he have faked it all, so effortlessly? But facts don't lie.  
Heartbreak. Betrayal. Drugs. Cheating.   
Lies. Lies, lies, lies.   
Louis wonders how he could have been that stupid. He wanted so desperately to find love that he imagined it, or so he assumed.   
Stupid, stupid, stupid.


End file.
